Those Most Ancient Distant Stars
by MizDirected
Summary: Celebrated daughter of Hannah and Joseph Shepard, Katlynn 'Kat' Shepard led a charmed life. Hero of Elysium, youngest N7 on record, Alliance golden girl. Eighteen months after meeting Spectre Nihlus Kryik at a Citadel party, they married. A year later, the Council made her humanity's first Spectre. It's the perfect life until Eden Prime brings her entire galaxy crashing down. AU/CD
1. Chapter 1

**Karipatrem** \- God-father

 **Torin** \- turian male above the age of majority.

 **Tarin** \- turian female above the age of majority.

 **Pulkar Verro** \- Beautiful mate, term of endearment referring to a male. **Verro** is used as a short form.

 **Eden Prime + 2**

 _I had an instructor in N school who always told us to never get cocky, that there was always a worse day coming for us. We rolled our eyes through her lectures; she actually entitled them, 'No matter how bad things get, something worse is coming for you'. I think it was supposed to both terrify and reassure us in some odd way. Maybe she thought the idea of worse coming would make us appreciate even the bad times, allowing us to live in and savour the moment._

 _Thank god my parents didn't lay all that stupid crap on me when I was growing up. Some days will just plain tear our hearts from our chests, throw them on the ground, and trample them, and no amount of rhetoric makes them any less horrible. We suck up our tears, cling to the things that matter, and we soldier on, because life just_ is _both good and bad. We try not to be too busy to enjoy the former, endure the latter, and we live._

 _I believed that completely until two days ago, until Eden Prime, Saren, and that damned Prothean beacon._

 _Now, I know the truth. There's a far worse day coming. For us all._

A ferocious smile cut a gash across her face as hospital staff scattered before her, fleeing the storm of armour and scars that thundered off the elevator and roared across the lobby. Rough and unforgiving, her rage and panic lashed out without mercy, seeing nothing but obstacles between her and her goal. When C-Sec stepped up to either escort her or stop her, a single glare backed them down. Most of them knew her far too well to step into her path. Besides, that turian bastard had sunk betrayal's blade just as deep into their chests.

 _Scurry away, people. Unless you can help me, clear the path._

"Spectre Nihlus Kryik!" she bellowed, her voice killing every other sound in the crowded lobby. "Now!" If they wanted to keep their hospital, someone would catch up and lead her to her husband. Pausing her charge, she slapped her hand against the door control into the triage ward. Even the second it took for the door to open proved too long a pause. Inertia shattered, a dropped egg unleashing a horde of venomous serpents.

 _Ni._

 _His body sprawled across the damned prefab decking, a halo of blue spreading around his head._

' _Williams! Alenko! Get that bastard!' The Marines' boots thundered, hollow and metallic, as they raced after Saren._

 _Her hands shook as they fought to stop the blood. Dear god, so much blood. Fingers, slippery and dripping, fumbled for his medigel control._

"Normandy _, I need Dr. Chakwas down here, now!'_

She stumbled when the door opened, landing on one knee as the snakes smashed through the cell imprisoning her panic and pain. The slithering mass swarmed over her, dragging long tangles of razor wire behind them. The jagged blades ripped a whimpered cry from her throat as they shredded her guts … damned near cutting her in half.

No! Stomping her emotions into muck, she glared up at the hands that reached to help her and lurched back to her feet.

She needed to keep moving, at least for the next couple of hours. Sanity and function relied on it. A far worse day loomed on the horizon for the entire galaxy, requiring her to prioritize the Spectre. As much as she screamed to be let loose, the wife had to wait. Sucking in a long breath, she shoved her shoulders back hard enough to crack her spine and pushed on.

"Spectre Shepard!" A salarian doctor leaped into her path, already jogging to avoid being trampled. "This way, please."

"What's my husband's condition?" she demanded, slowing just enough to avoid running him down. Even that slight surrender allowed the pain to sear its way up her veins once more. It settled in the corners of her eyes, molten and threatening. She clamped her jaw down so tight her teeth squeaked together and reinforced the walls.

"Spectre Kryik came through surgery better than expected," the salarian reported. He glanced back every other step as if checking to be sure she hadn't closed, a short blade set to sink into the soft spot between his fifth and sixth ribs. Sometimes, she appreciated her reputation for brutal, personal kills. "In coma, on life support. Must understand. Spectre Kryik suffering massive brain trauma. Odds of survival low. Even if he survives, long term prognosis is grim." His hands gave a helpless little supplicating flail. "Apologies and condolences, Spectre."

When the door opened, Shepard bulled past the salarian, sending the lithe alien crashing into the nursing station. Not sparing the doctor another glance and scarcely another thought, she hurried past, her sights locking onto a turian in a set of blue and black armour. He stood alone at the far end of the corridor, an island across a wide expanse of turbulent sea. As Shepard stepped forward, that sea turned to face her, fifty sets of ravenous eyes and greedy, half-open mouths. Damn. Reporters.

She knew of only one way to deal with an army of reporters. Taking a deep breath, she set her shoulders, tucked her chin into her chest, and charged.

Bodies crowded in on her from all sides, but she kept her vision focused on that single figure standing outside the doors at the end of the corridor.

"Spectre Shepard! Over here! Have you heard any news?"

"Rumours say a Spectre is responsible for the attack on Eden Prime? Can you confirm that?"

"Spectre Shepard, how are you holding up?"

"Spectre Shepard, have you met with the council? Is it true that Spectre Saren Arterius was responsible for your husband's murder?"

That word pulled her slightly off course, a single, armoured fist silencing the woman, shattering one of her lying teeth. Nihlus wasn't dead. The doctor said he came through the surgery, and poor prognosis or not, her husband was a fighter. He wouldn't just give up and die.

' _We're here, Shepard." The Normandy's shadow settled over her as Anderson's voice broke through the panic. "Get your ass after Saren; we'll take care of Nihlus.'_

" _Don't you dare leave me," she whispered and pressed a soft, wet kiss against the upper plate of her husband's mouth. Swiping at her face, she replaced tears with streaks of blue and scrambled up, her Mattock settling into her hands, a solid weight of deadly promise._

' _And when you catch that son of a bitch, put a half dozen bullets in him for me.'_

' _Yes, sir.'_

The rest of the sea parted ahead of the blood spray, fleeing the rage and brute force that had saved Elysium and bought humanity its first Spectre. Her focus locked back on the turian at the end of the hall, a weapon sighting down a target. When she'd closed to within two metres, he turned to face her.

"What the hell, Vakarian?" she said, strangling a scream down into a rough whisper. The sharp, growling edge on every word scraped her throat raw as they cut their way out. Dropping her shoulder, she rammed the C-Sec officer into the wall. "Two months? You've been investigating that bastard for two months, and you didn't see this coming?" She slammed the turian into the wall again. "You let us walk into that shit pile without any intel."

Strong arms locked around her, pushing her toward the couch along the wall, the torin's superior weight and strength bearing her down once her momentum evaporated. Talons stroked her hair as those long arms pinned hers against her body, the touch comforting. Too damned comforting.

She struggled against the gentle bonds. "Let me go." Jerking hard, she tried to bury her elbows into the seams of his armour. "Get your goddamned hands off of me, Garrus." She couldn't allow him to unravel her control. Not yet.

"There wasn't even a whisper out there, Kat," the investigator said. "I'm so sorry about Ni. You know that I'd have done anything … ." A long breath blew across her neck, a desert wind that scorched her skin, the keen of pain whispering beneath it scouring her clean of rage. "We'll get him through this."

The weight of the torin's face lifted from her neck, and he stiffened, as if seeing the reporters for the first time. "Clear this corridor!" he bellowed, his volume nearly deafening her, while the rage in his subvocals lifted her hair off her skin. "Wilson, Pavilus, stand guard. No one other than Spectre Kryik's medical team, his bond-mate, or myself gets through." He sucked in a quick, heavy breath. "And someone make sure al Jilani sees a doctor."

Their replies echoed vaguely against the sides of the well as Shepard tumbled down into the dark. Without the windlass and rope of her rage, nothing held her at the surface.

"You know I'd have taken that bullet myself, Kat," the turian whispered, his cheek returning, solid and reassuring, pressed against hers. "He's my best friend. You're both my family."

She nodded, her hands bumping and dragging bonelessly over the seams and ridges of his armour as her arms wrapped around him. She turned her face into his neck, taking sanctuary against the warm, rough hide. "You should have been there with us, and not to take Ni's bullet, either." A thick, wet breath caught in her throat, and when she spoke, the words had to clamber through a pinhole. "You could have stopped him or scouted ahead with him." She thumped his back with a fist. "He left me behind with the Marines. Damned idiot and his recon."

The C-Sec officer nodded and squeezed her tighter. "He's going to come through this, Kat. You know he is. It'll take a hell of a lot more than Saren Arterius to bring down Nihlus Kryik."

Fifty heartbeats passed in silence before he pulled away from her. "I stopped by your apartment on the way over and brought you a kit with some towels, soap, clean dress uniform." He tipped his head toward a duffel at the end of the couch his gaze cutting toward the door and back. "Go in, sit with him for a bit, and then take a shower and get ready to face the council. We're going to need their support to bring Saren down."

Shepard took a deep breath, choking a little on the unshed tears that clogged her throat and sinuses. "Yeah. I already contacted Udina, sent him all the hardsuit recordings. Anderson is working on paving the way there too." She gripped her friend's hands tight enough that she saw him wince. "There was something so much worse than Saren, Garrus. So very much worse, but this isn't the time or place to discuss it."

She stood, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck, then shrugged her armour up her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she set herself straight and square, buttoning everything down. A soldier, an N7, a Spectre … outside the room at the end of the hall, she needed to be all of them. "Meet me back here when I'm done with the council?"

"Of course." He glanced toward the exit. "Apparently there's a krogan smashing his way around the academy. Tried to kill Fist in the middle of Chora's Den." A rolling shrug betrayed a helpless sort of confusion rather than nonchalance. "He said something about Saren, so I'm going to head down and talk to him."

"Good." She softened a little as she met her friend's eyes, one last piece of news to tell. A tiny, brilliant spark of light had burned unacknowledged inside her for more than a day, a source of joy and terror so sharp that it bled. "So, I heard from Mordin Solus on the way back from Eden Prime," she said, her voice burrowing down into her chest.

Garrus stood, capturing both of her hands in his. "What did he say, Kat?"

"It worked." A soft breath puffed from her nostrils as the words that should have been a cause for celebration sat like a lump of greasy snow in her gut. "In thirty-three weeks, a miniature Kryik will be joining the galaxy." The weight of those words landed hard and awkward on her chest, throwing her back a couple of steps before she recovered. "Oh." The word tumbled out, a soft almost-gasp. She stared at the floor for long seconds, brow furrowing until implacable fingers of pressure stabbed into her temples. Looking up, she met his gaze, flailing through rough seas, fighting to grab hold of any life preserver.

The torin smiled and gripped her shoulders, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Congratulations, Kat." He nodded toward the door at the end of the hall. "Go tell Ni. He's been working so hard to make me a karipatrem that it might just be the thing to help him fight his way back."

Shepard nodded and pulled away, twisting a little to free herself of his hands, their grip too tight and too indecently, uncomfortably alive. "Yes, that's why we've gone through all this, Garrus … to make you a godfather."

She turned, the door at the end of the corridor exerting equal and opposite forces: pulling her towards it with the promise of wrapping her fingers around the talons of the torin she loved, and pushing her back toward space … action and revenge, movement to keep the possibility of his loss at bay.

 _Damn it, Ni, I can't do this on my own._

"Have you called Hannah and Joe?" Garrus asked. From the corner of her eye, Shepard saw him back up a step, a docking clamp releasing.

Taking the first step forward, she nodded. "Yeah, they're running patrols in the Exodus Cluster. The entire Alliance has gone to high alert. They said they'd be on the next ship, but I don't know if they'll be able to get leave. Mom's on track for a promotion when Hirawa retires. Dad might be able to come." A second step and Nihlus's gravity grabbed her, inexorably drawing her to the door. She sighed. As if there had ever been a choice or a doubt. She'd been lost the moment he introduced himself nearly five years before.

"See you in a couple of hours, Garrus." Reaching the door, she palmed the control then stepped through.

Antiseptic and the heavy ozone of the decon field bit deep inside her nostrils as she stopped, waiting for the thick pane of blue light. As the ultraviolet light passed over her, the room's brilliant white and gleaming stainless steel gnawed into her eyes, every bit as vicious as its stench. Taking a deep breath, she searched the room's scents for the slightly sweet, desert sand and spice of her husband. Nothing. Just hospital.

"You've stepped through the looking glass, Alice," she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes and took long, slow breaths, struggling to ignore the inhuman smells. Her life was dirt and wind, sweat and blood, not the carnival hell of surreal madness that descended on Eden Prime. "Spirits, give me strength to keep the Red Queens and Jabberwocks at bay," she whispered.

Steeling herself, she opened her eyes and strode over to the bed. So many bandages and blankets swaddled the deep chocolate-red of Nihlus's hide and plates that only his eyes showed. Dear God. His eyes. Shepard snatched at the railing, the armour plating on the backs of her fingers ringing against the metal as the world tipped to starboard. The floor bucked hard, trying to shake her loose as the swollen mass of her husband's face swam before her. The soft, delicate hide around his eyes protruded out from under his plates, swollen until it shone, the pressure escaping in the only place it could. They'd taped his eyelids shut, and for a moment, her stomach threatened to embarrass her.

She reached out, her hand trembling so hard that she just clenched it into a fist and pulled it back, afraid to hurt him. "Hey," she whispered, then stopped, her mind going suddenly and horribly blank. Damn, it was ridiculous. She'd never been tongue-tied in Nihlus Kryik's presence in the entire time she'd known him. They'd met at the council's party celebrating Donnell Udina's appointment to Ambassador. She'd barely had time to check her coat when the Spectre walked up to her, introduced himself, and they'd taken off from there. They danced for hours, then went back to her place, made love all night, ordered in a breakfast that they ate curled up under the sheets, and never looked back.

For almost five years, her love rarely strayed out of arm's reach. In retrospect, she supposed that she'd lived a fool's paradise expecting it to go on forever.

"Spectre Shepard?"

Shepard jumped, the soft, flanged voice startling her. She stepped away from the bed, having to really look to see the turian doctor almost completely camouflaged—white face plates and white clothing covered by a white smock—against white walls. Only pale green familia notas and her movement gave her away.

Shepard shook her hands and sucked in a deep breath to calm her heart, reminding her body not everything needed a life or death reaction. "Sorry, you startled me a little."

The doctor stepped around the end of the bed, the rattle of the datapad against the bed setting all of Shepard's nerves screaming again.

"Calm down," she muttered under her breath and cracked her neck.

"I'm Dr. Gedarin, your bond-mate's primary surgeon." The doctor snagged the back of a large, rolling armchair and guided it over next to the bed. "Please, sit down." Shepard perched on the edge of the seat, her heavy armour awkward and clumsy outside of its reason for being, watching as the doctor fetched another chair and pushed it over. "How are you holding up?" Gedarin asked, gold eyes studying Shepard with a professional, detached sort of concern. "I understand you were on a mission together?"

Shepard nodded, but remained mute, clutching those moments close, guarding them jealously. The frustrated breathlessness of her husband pulling his usual, 'I'm just going to scout ahead a couple hundred metres. Don't worry, I'll be back in a second' crap wasn't the doctor's to share. The garrotte of terror that had wrapped around Shepard's throat when she heard the gunshot and only silence answered her calls wasn't for sale to the reporters outside. And she'd be five days dead before she allowed the moment of finding the love of her life sprawled and bleeding to be spread across the extranet, fodder for the vultures.

After several moments of silence, the doctor nodded. "Very well. Spectre Kryik has suffered a serious brain injury. The projectile entered at the back of his skull, angled upward." Twisting around, the doctor used her own head to illustrate the entry point and trajectory. "The only reason your bond-mate has any neural activity is that he appears to have thrown himself backward into his attacker at the last second. The bullet was deflected onto a more superficial path." Facing Shepard once more, the tarin leaned forward, forearms braced across her thighs.

Shepard braced herself in return. "The doctor outside said that Nihlus's prognosis is grim." Rolling her chair a little closer to her husband, she peeled off her glove and reached through the railing, wrapping her fingers around the limp, motionless talons. His chill flesh startled her, and she snatched her hand back. Normally, he ran a few degrees warmer than she did. "He's so cold."

"Yes, we're keeping his body temperature low." She nodded toward Nihlus's hand. "Go ahead, the more you touch him and speak to him, the better."

Taking her husband's hand again, Shepard lifted the deep red, calloused digits to her lips and pressed a long, soft kiss against the knuckles. She pulled back ever so slightly. "So what is this grim prognosis, Doctor, and what do we need to do to make it far less grim?"

"He came through the surgery far better than we hoped," the surgeon said. She stood and moved over to examined the data on computer that ran all the machines. "It's still too early to tell if he'll regain consciousness, but we're doing everything we can." The tarin's talons moved with the steady, deft confidence of someone very good at her job who held no emotional investment in the body lying on the bed.

Shepard squeezed Nihlus's talons, a gentle, reassuring pressure. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking for nearly two days. She glanced up at the doctor, nodding her thanks, but her stare returned immediately to the tiny glimpses of white on dark red-brown between the bandages. "So, what is everything you can? Is there anything I can be doing to help?"

"When Spectre Kryik came in, we cleaned out the wound, stopped the bleeding, and began treating the brain swelling immediately. Once the swelling comes down, we'll begin stem cell therapy, neuro-regeneration techniques, and I've contacted a surgeon on Thessia who is pioneering a technique of using the innate asari ability to touch another's mind to help stimulate the development of neural pathways." Her fingers moved over the controls. "Her technique has shown excellent promise with many types of brain injury."

Shepard let out a long, slow breath that she didn't even realize that she'd been holding. She kissed her husband's hand again. "This one's good, pulkar verro," she whispered, her breath warming the tough hide. "She's got you."

The turian surgeon stepped away from the computer. "The best thing you can do is what you're doing right now. Just spend as much time as you can, touching him and talking to him. I have no doubt that he hears you." She turned the monitor so that Shepard could see it, and lifted a hand pointing to a couple of small spikes in his brain scan. "These both coincide with you kissing him." She smiled, her mandibles sweeping slowly. "I'll give you some time alone." She pointed to a red button at the head of the bed. "If you need anything, just press that button."

"Thank you, Dr. Gedarin, I feel very confident with my bond-mate being in your care." Shepard pressed her lips into a tight smile. "I won't be here as much as I'd like, but you'll have all my information and be able to reach me wherever I am. Although, I'll probably call frequently enough that you'll want to shoot me, but he's my entire galaxy." Her lips trembled through another ironed out smile.

The doctor nodded and strode to the door. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Spectre Shepard. I'm sorry it is under these circumstances."

Shepard watched after the surgeon until the door closed then rolled her chair in tight against the side of the bed. "Hey there, verro. I hitched a ride back with the _Peterborough_. Once I woke up—that damned beacon knocked me out for almost a day—I spent the entire time hiding in the armoury, cleaning their weapons with Williams and Alenko. They know how to keep their mouths shut, so it wasn't a bad run."

She pressed his hand against her cheek. "Chakwas did a hell of a job getting you here alive, verro. She's earned a lifetime supply of that damned ice brandy she likes."

Closing her eyes, she leaned into the side of the bed, the railing icy against her ear. "Mordin called me just after I woke up and um … well, you have to get your ass out of this bed because apparently the tenth time's the charm. In about thirty-three weeks, there's going to be a tiny life form needing protection from his or her mother's ham-hands and complete lack of mothering instincts."

Turning her face into his palm, she kissed the skin, warmer from contact with her. "I'm pregnant." She said the words slowly, testing the feel of them in her mouth. After well over a year of trying, each attempt meeting with heartbreak, she hadn't been sure she'd ever get a chance to say them, and now she could … they amounted to just about the most terrifying words that had ever left her lips.

"You hear me, Ni? You're going to be a pari, so you need to fight this." The tears that threatened earlier began to fall, slow, scalding tracks down her face. "You need to come back to me. I can't do this without you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Etnul** \- Shorthand greeting and asking admittance used between friends and family. The equivalent of May I enter?

 **Amicinula** \- Shorthand greeting and welcome used between friends and family. The equivalent of Be welcome here.

 **Eden Prime +2**

 _I blame my parents for my enduring belief in fairy tales. Some of my earliest memories involve being tucked safely under warm blankets, my parents telling stories about how they fell in love at first sight while attending the Alliance Naval Academy. Despite years posted apart and disasters of varying degrees, their love remains the solid backbone of our family. I can't even imagine one of them without the other._

 _As I grew up, I continued to believe in the fairy tale even though I became a sort of joke to the opposite sex. At ICT, they called me 'The Tank' and my squads have always joked that they never need to worry about cover as long as I'm on point. At nearly 195 cms tall and packing 90 kilos of muscle, I could hardly be called delicate or even particularly feminine. I'm a Marine._

 _Despite the fact that men preferred arm wrestling with me over kissing, I never really worried about it. I worked all the time, I was very good at my job, my people respected the hell out of me, and dating always seemed a waste of energy. And, despite the apparently slim odds of my finding love, I hung onto the fairy tale, believing it would happen. Someday, Prince Charming or Mr. Right would see past The Tank … would see me … and fall in love._

 _Then Donnel Udina replaced Ambassador Goyle and the council threw a massive party. As the freshly minted Hero of Elysium, my attendance wasn't exactly optional. Apparently, neither was formal wear rather than my dress blues. I refused to wear the heels. It was bad enough I had to rub elbows with the council and Citadel elite feeling like a linebacker stuffed into a lace sausage casing. That night I entered the ballroom expecting to spend a couple of hours leaning against the bar before fleeing at the earliest opportunity._

 _I hadn't even finished checking my wrap (and sidearm) when a strong, dual-toned voice called my name, and talons reached out to shake my hand. I admit to being a little starstruck. You didn't spend much time on the Citadel without hearing the name Nihlus Kryik. I think we'd started dancing to our third or fourth song before I realized that all his questions were about me, and not 'what sort of sniper rifle do you prefer', but who I was, where I'd come from, what I thought and felt about different topics._

 _We talked about everything. Well, everything except Elysium or any of the missions that had put him in the news. Music, politics, religion, art, literature, action movies … he could make intelligent, engaging conversation about anything. That damned Spectre blew me away, plain and simple. By the time we ordered in breakfast the next morning, I was a goner. Thank God, so was he._

 _I'm not sure we even got a month under our belts as bond-mates before he started talking about kids. We'd never be able to have any the usual way, so we talked about different options, but never took any steps. We worked a lot, spending far too much time in different parts of the galaxy. That was not the way to raise a family. I'd never admit it to him, not even now, but I looked for excuses. Some people were just born to be parents. Some people weren't. Guess which group I considered myself a part of._

 _Then, a few weeks after I was sworn in as a Spectre, Nihlus and I followed a slaving ring to Omega and met a mad scientist. The speed-talking salarian said that he could graft some of Nihlus's genes to human sperm. He talked a good game, and even though it took a lot of tries, I guess he came through._

 _And now, all of my fears and questions about what sort of parent I'll be are moot. In thirty-three weeks, I'll find out. That damned Spectre had better be at my side for it._

* * *

 _The sun flares through the window, blinding her. She throws her arm up to shield her face. No, it's not the sun. The walls explode, the floor heaves, and she flies across the room, weightless, thrown by the hands of the gods. Screaming. Oh blessed gods of earth and wind, the screaming. The door at the end of the room bursts open, and monsters scramble through, clawing and wailing. She tries to stand. Through the hole in the wall, she sees her people fleeing, burning, screaming, being torn apart—_

 _Razor claws sink into her flesh. She fights, but they're impossibly strong. The ground shakes and the sky crashes down, the shadow of death falling over the city. She twists, her own claws ripping into bloodless flesh, tearing out handfuls of machinery._

 _She screams for help—_

"Kat?"

Shepard leaped up out of the chair, flailing and clawing, dessicated flesh and circuitry vanishing into still, sterile air. Blinking, she flopped back into her chair, gasping, her lungs starved. Gradually a throbbing ache broke through the nightmare. She winced and reached up to rub her neck as she looked around, bewildered by the almost seamless white and engine-like noise. Where was she?

"That didn't look like a comfortable sleeping position," Garrus said from the threshold. His voice opened the door keeping her memories at bay, allowing them to pour back in. For a moment, she gasped, her hand leaping up to grip the bed, clinging to the only solid object in the maelstrom. Eden Prime, Ni, Saren, fighting through the colony, the horrible ring of burned out ground the size of a town, the most massive ship she'd ever seen blasting off the surface. She closed her eyes and scrubbed her face with a hand.

Two days. It had been two days since the nightmare began, and she'd fallen asleep sitting next to her husband's bed. Turning her back to Garrus, she took Ni's hand in hers and lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his rough hide against her lips. "Hey there, verro."

Garrus shifted over by the door, the sounds of life so indecently loud in that spotless, silent tomb: boots rasping over the floor, armour seams rubbing together, paper crinkling, breath whispering in and out of his lungs. Shepard scowled, cracked her neck, and turned toward the C-Sec officer. "I thought you were headed to the academy. What are you doing back?" She hit her omnitool, panic asserting itself again. How long had she slept? She'd showered and changed, then sat down, intending to stay with Ni a few more minutes before heading to the tower. "How long have I been asleep? Damn, I didn't miss the council meeting, did I?"

"No. You're fine. Anderson didn't get an answer on your comm line, so he left a message with me that the council will see you at 1400. You've got an hour yet." He took a step, then hesitated. "Etnul?"

Her panic shattering, Shepard smiled and nodded. "Amicinula, Garrus. Always." She lifted a hand and waved him in. "You're family."

"As you two are to me." He walked over and sat in the other chair. "Sometimes I even forget how much I hated Ni when I met him. Arrogant idiot." A cocky grin accompanied the words, and then he held out a bag. "Here, I figured you probably hadn't eaten since it happened."

Shepard took the bag. "Callighans? Nice." She opened the bag. "Double cheeseburger and fries. This is death in a bag, Garrus. Have you been hired to assassinate me slowly, over thirty or so years?" It was an old, well-used joke. The three of them ate far too much junk food: she and Ni because of the amount of time they spent travelling, Garrus due to being a workaholic bachelor.

Right then, however, the joke bit hard and deep. She caressed the back of Ni's hand with her thumb. "It's not that funny when one of us is—"

"Kat, stop it." Garrus rolled his chair closer and reached out, his hand heavy on her knee. "Just eat your burger, or your stomach will have the council thinking a pack of feral varren are attacking the council chambers." A crooked grin flicked one mandible when she met his stare. "I've never heard a sound as disturbing as your guts when you're hungry."

A soft chuckle rewarded his teasing. "It's not my fault I'm always hungry." She unpacked her burger, folding back the wrapper before taking a bite. "Oh, damn," she mumbled around the mouthful, "I forgot how good these were." She took a second bite, the perfect combination of grilled meat, creamy cheese, and tangy pickle like music on her tongue.

"Best food on the Citadel," he agreed, setting into his meal like someone in an eating contest. "What did his surgeon say?" he asked between bites. He swallowed hard, thumped his chest a couple of times, then poured half his drink down his throat.

Shepard glanced up and winced at the display. "Chew, you savage." She flattened the bag on her lap, then set her burger down. "She has what sounds like a very thorough treatment plan, but … ." She smiled and nodded toward the computer. "She showed me his readouts. There were two tiny blips that coincided with my kissing his hand."

Garrus smiled and nodded. "You two really are sickening. I know he won't leave you." The grin widened. "You told him about Ni Jr.?" When she nodded, his smile dropped into a questioning scowl. "So, what exactly did this Solus fellow do? Did he just take your bit and Ni's bit then smoosh them together?" He acted out the question, holding up his hands, his thumbs and first talons pinched together, then squished them together like he was rolling a spitball.

Shepard laughed. "Yes, then he loaded it into a straw and shot it into me." She kicked him. "No, you goof, there is my bit, and then he took Ni's DNA and a human sperm cell and grafted what he could of Ni's DNA onto the sperm. Then he smooshed them together." She shrugged. "The first nine failed because there was too much turian, my body attacked them."

His heavy, comforting hand returned to her knee. "Well, this time, he got it right." He nodded at her food. "Eat. The council meeting is going to be hours of standing on that damned platform."

She patted his hand and picked up her burger. "You talked to the krogan who tried to kill Fist?"

"Yeah. Fist was an agent for the Shadow Broker, but decided to quit and go to work for Saren." He swallowed. "Apparently, this Wrex worked for Saren in the past as well Not personally. Apparently an agent of Saren's hired the krogan to help raid a volus cargo transport, and Saren boarded the ship afterward. Wrex took off without waiting to get paid, said Saren gave him a bad feeling. Good thing he did, because the rest of the mercs involved in the job ended up dead."

Shepard chuffed. "A Spectre sacking ships like a pirate? That doesn't make sense." She took another bite, chewing without tasting anything. She hated mysteries. Ni was the sleuth … the razor-keen mind with a passion for puzzles; she made up the muscle half of the equation.

 _Ni can't investigate this time, so dust the cobwebs out of your skull, put the can of whoopass back on the shelf, and think._

"I want to talk to this krogan," she said, glancing up before taking another bite. "Can I have my people transfer him to the _Normandy_?"

"Sure, who will you send to pick him up? I'll let the desk know to release him to their custody." He balled up his bag and wrappers and tossed them into the garbage.

"Lt. Kaidan Alenko. I hope the krogan can give me something to work from, because other than the crap the beacon shoved into my head—I'll tell you all about it later—I've got nothing to go on." She took another bite, chewing slowly. Hopefully the council threw all their support behind her. She was going to need outside investigative personnel to dig up a trail for her to follow.

"What's the _Normandy_ like?" Garrus asked. "I saw a glimpse of her in dock. Pretty enough, but it's hard to tell anything from the outside.

"She's amazing, and her crew is solid. Of course, Anderson being at the helm is a huge bonus. Most of the crew were eyeballing Ni pretty intensely, but David paved the road well. They'd all relaxed enough to be inappropriately friendly and curious by the time we got to Eden Prime."

The turian stood and paced around the bed, stopping on the other side to take his best friend's hand in his. "Are you going to let me tag along when you ship out?" He met her eyes across the machines and sheets, and her husband's still form. "You won't know what to do with yourself without a turian partner. All those humans will throw you off your game."

Despite the teasing tone of his voice, she saw the very real grief in Garrus's eyes, an echo of her own. As much as she would have loved to have his reassuring and skilled presence at her back, she shook her head. "As soon as Saren finds out Nihlus is still alive, he'll try again. I need someone I trust completely to watch over him." She smiled, a thin press of her lips. "And that list has one name: yours."

"Wait, the beacon stuffed something in your head?" he asked at last. His brow plates and mandibles dropped and tightened into a concerned scowl. After a second, he nodded. "Yeah, okay, explained later." He sighed, the concern morphing into regret. "I don't like the idea of being left out of all the adventure, but for Ni … anything." He shrugged. "And maybe I can use my C-Sec resources to help you find out what Saren is up to, do some legwork and research for you."

"Thank you, you're the best." Shepard glanced down at the chrono on her omnitool, the weight of time pressing down harder each second. While she sat there eating her burger, Saren could be killing more innocent colonists. "I'd better get going. I want to talk to Anderson and Udina before meeting with the council."

Quickly wrapping up the uneaten portion of her burger, she stuck it back in the bag. Standing, she dusted down her dress uniform, trying to smooth the wrinkles she'd creased into it while she slept. "Thanks for the food. I'll be back as soon as I've brought the council up to speed." She winced a little, the muscles in the corner of her eye twitching with fatigue. Hours stretched long and weary between her and a chance to get some sleep.

Garrus laid Nihlus's hand on the mattress and walked around the bed. "Good luck," he said, grasping her shoulders in strong, gentle talons. "I hope they listen with open minds." Mandibles quirking, he cocked his head. "Well, as much as politicians can have open minds."

She pulled him into a quick hug, patting his back hard enough to count as slaps. "Thanks, Garrus." Stepping back, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Huge." He laughed, staggering when she punched his shoulder. "Ow, and far too strong for your own good." Sobering, he gave her a starched nod. "You look ready. The very image of a Spectre. Go get 'em."

She turned on her heel. "Aye, aye, sir."

Lt. Alenko and Chief Williams descended upon her the moment she stepped out into the main lobby of the hospital.

"Ma'am." The lieutenant gave her a sharp salute. "May I enquire about Spectre Kryik?"

Shepard's ironed-on smile warmed a little. "He's alive. The surgeons all say he came through surgery better than expected." She held a hand out toward the exit. "Thank you for asking. Walk with me. I've got to meet with the council in a few minutes."

"Will you need us to be there, ma'am?" Williams asked. The brunette's perpetual scowl deepened and she lagged back a little as if the very idea had her prepped to run screaming in the other direction. Shepard searched the other woman's face for signs of stress. The chief had been the sole survivor of her unit when the _Normandy_ team found her. Williams looked like she had her shit buttoned down, but Shepard made a mental note to take her aside in the next day to talk.

The last of the rigor in Shepard's expression melted away, easing enough for a chuckle to break through. "That won't be necessary, Chief. Your reports and hardsuit data is already with the council. I doubt they'll call on you." Stopping at the elevator, she hit the control then glanced over her shoulder at Alenko. "I do need you to head down to C-Sec Academy in the wards and take custody of a krogan named Urdnot Wrex. Officer Vakarian is arranging for him to be released to us."

"A krogan, ma'am?" Williams asked. The chief's tone raised Shepard's hackles, but the Spectre just smoothed them back down. God, she hoped Williams wasn't a xenophobe.

"Yes, a krogan, and you're taking custody of him under Spectre authority, so make it clear that although he's not a prisoner, I will hunt him down if he runs." She grinned at the expression on the LT's face. "I need him to stick around. He could have important information." The elevator dinged, drawing her attention. "Make him comfortable in the cargo bay for now. He won't fit in the crew bunks." She stepped inside the carriage and hit the control to take her down to the cab stand. When she began talking again, she pinned Alenko with a firm stare. "Whatever he needs, he gets. I don't know how long I'll be busy here. If he gets antsy, take him to the Armax or something. He doesn't need to stay on the ship, but he does need to be escorted if he's out and about."

The lieutenant snapped to attention and saluted. "Understood, ma'am."

Shepard returned the salute. "And enough with the ma'am. My mother is a ma'am, I'm just Shepard."

The man's eyes sparkled as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am, Shepard."

The three of them parted ways at the transit station. Shepard climbed into her cab, set the destination, and then cranked the heater and collapsed into the seat. The entire Citadel maintained a comfortable temperature based on a mean for the different races, but since Eden Prime, a steady chill had been seeping deeper and deeper into her bones.

Head sagging back against the rest, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. She'd never been very good at compartmentalization. She tried to keep emotions out of her work, but she never really succeeded. Taking down a slaver's den, hitting the big house after securing the breeding sheds and the mother houses … hells yes, she put a bullet through the crotch of every single one of the bastards behind it, then let them bleed and scream a bit before the bullet to the head.

And then … . Saren hadn't just hit close to home, he'd set fire to it with her family inside, but if she didn't stay cool, didn't keep her wits about her, he'd put a bullet in her head. He'd always acted the complete bastard with her, mostly because she was human, but he was very, very good at what he did. When it came to dealing with Saren, Ni proved a weak spot she could ill afford. As much as she hated to think it, if he'd been killed, at least she'd be able to focus on her vengeance, a high explosive round aimed right between Saren's eyes.

"Arriving at destination—Citadel Tower—in thirty seconds," the cab's VI announced, its inflection just cheerful enough that Shepard had to rein in the urge to punch her fist through the console. Instead, she took several more deep breaths and flexed her fists. She could think of better plans than going into a council session annoyed. "Keep the temper buttoned down, Shepard."

When the car set down, she climbed out and looked up the massive tower. Every time she stood there, staring up, she remembered how much she loved being a Spectre. She loved everything about it, even the paperwork, because as she filled out her expense reports, she was filling out a goddamned Spectre expense report! The first human to do so. Being a Spectre meant going out into the galaxy, her guns on her back, her best guy at her side, and being a big goddamned hero.

Of course, Saren had crapped all over that too.

She strode across to the elevator and headed up. Time to start rallying the galaxy to figure out and face whatever the hell it was she saw coming in the vision. The ride passed with even greater sloth than usual when no one entered the carriage. Usually she could count on eavesdropping on several different arguments over everything from market fluctuations to council policy to issues plaguing different colonies. She'd made a couple of truly spectacular investments thanks to the things she'd overheard in that elevator … well, combined with some lucky guesses.

When the doors opened at last, she strode through the small antechamber into the long, beautiful room. She looked up into the softly glowing trees, letting their light and the chatter of falling water ease the rest of her frustration before striding to the far end where the council, Ambassador Udina, and Captain David Anderson awaited her.

At the top of the first set of stairs, Shepard stopped and looked around. Just like the elevator, the chambers stood empty. Not a single salarian fussing over what the dalatrasses would do if something didn't get ratified. No asari leaning regally against railings. No turians and volus snarking about the human upstarts. No one.

At least, until she rounded the large fountain. Her brows hunkered down over her nose, forehead furrowing above them. Anderson and Tevos, the asari councilor, stood at the foot of the second staircase locked in a serious discussion. She couldn't hear what they said over the sound of water, but their expressions screamed 'bad news'. The hand of dread reached down out of the clear blue, crushing her into the elegant flooring, the weight of it making each step harder to take than the one before.

"Madame Councilor." Shepard bowed her head in a sharp gesture of respect. She straightened, gave the captain a smart salute. "Captain." Focusing on the councilor, she said, "I wasn't expecting to see you before the meeting. Is there a problem? Did you receive my report and the evidence?"

The elegant councillor turned away from Anderson, her every movement reminding Shepard of a kelp forest undulating in the waves: lithe, serene, and graceful. "Yes, we received your packet and have reviewed it. That's why I'm here." She pinned Shepard with a narrow-eyed stare. "Your report indicated that you experienced some sort of vision when you interacted with the beacon?" The asari matriarch's stare felt like a huge needle stabbing straight through Shepard's head, sticking her to a board like a specimen being examined. "Do you recall anything?"

"No, ma'am, at least nothing that makes sense." One of her hands migrated to her temple as she closed her eyes and tried to force the images forward. Pain spiked just behind her eyes, then spread out, diffusing into a dull ache that crawled beneath her skull. "It was a warning about something dark and terrible coming. Horror and destruction tangled into a jumble of images that screamed, 'they've killed us all, be ready, death is coming'."

Tevos paled a little behind her face markings. "And you're certain the threat is genuine?" Closing half a step, she looked up into Shepard's eyes, her expression clearly telegraphing that Shepard had better be damned sure.

"I'm certain, Madame Councillor." She made a low, breathy coughing sound deep in her chest. "I've been good and scared from time to time, ma'am, but nothing has terrified me the way this stuff in my head does. Something's coming, and it's bringing the extinction of all the races along with it."

The councillor turned and strode away several steps, stopping to stare into the fountain. "You're aware that asari can enter the minds of others and touch their thoughts?"

Shepard stiffened, her shoulders snapping back as she clasped her hands behind her. Of course she'd heard of it. More jokes about embracing eternity circulated through the military than just about any other topic. Rocking onto her toes a little, she thought over her reply, rephrasing it a couple of times before she allowed it to leave her lips.

"Isn't it an intimate sort of procedure, ma'am?" Shepard's heart started pounding its fists against the inside of her ribcage. The list of things she didn't intend to do that day popped to the fore of her mind, and 'getting my brain sexed up' leaped right up near the top of the stack.

Tevos turned, a kind but slightly impatient looking smile plucking at the corners of her mouth. "It can be, but it doesn't have to be, and it's certainly not inherently sexual in nature. That's a different sort of sharing altogether. I would simply ask you to concentrate on what you saw in the vision and then examine that memory." She closed the distance between them again. "I trust your judgment and your intuition, Shepard, both have proven their value over the cycles, but I need to see and assess this risk myself before I can recommend a course of action to the rest of the council."

"Yes, ma'am." Bracing as if she'd just challenged Tevos to punch her in the gut as hard as she could, Shepard said, "What do I need to do?"

"Just look into my eyes, concentrate on the vision, and relax." The asari closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "It won't hurt, and I won't look beyond the events on Eden Prime and the beacon message." When Tevos opened her eyes, it took all of Shepard's courage to look into the inky, bottomless pit that stared back.

Shepard swallowed, choking a little, her tongue too thick in her throat. She tried to concentrate on the beacon, on the images of death and destruction but a million other thoughts suddenly crowded into her head: Nihlus's cocky grin as he checked his weapon and turned to leave the _Normandy_ , Eden Prime's idyllic countryside littered with dead bodies, the machine zombies lurching off spikes to swarm her squad, Nihlus down and bleeding, frantically trying to disarm the massive explosive devices set to destroy the colony, the beacon glowing across the platform … .

 _Screaming and wept prayers._

 _Skies darkened by machines as tall and monstrous as the gods._

 _Antecessors save us. Gods save us._

 _The gods are lies. The only god is death._

 _Racing toward a family member, they turn ... their beloved face nothing but horror, the flesh belching tech and rot._

 _Too late for us._

 _Whole planets burning._

 _Mountains of dead, their expanse limitless ... rot and gore and disease._

 _People screaming and shredding themselves on wire. Nightmares tear apart those who fall, ravenous, crimson mouths gobbling and wet._

 _Save yourselves._

"Right there," Tevos said. "Go back to that last thought, Shepard." She stepped a hand's width closer.

Gut churning, bile scorching and sour in the back of her throat, Shepard focused on the last image, planets receding as if a camera swept along the path of a perfect planetary alignment.

"Yes, that's it." Tevos's fingers wrapped around Shepard's wrist, a shackle of ice and steel. "The information is incomplete, fragmented and alien … as if spoken in a foreign tongue, but right there … coordinates. There are coordinates buried in the message." After another moment, she withdrew, pale and shaken. She closed her eyes, visibly pulling herself together. She appeared to succeed until a massive shudder broke down her spine, glass shattering, ugly and jarring.

Tevos stepped back, stumbling a little. Anderson's hand shot out, capturing her elbow to steady her. Her quick nod of thanks belied the quick jerk that freed her arm from his grip. "If you'll excuse me. I need to consider this information." She inclined her head toward Shepard and then Anderson. "Until the meeting," she said, clipping her words tight and short. "We have a great deal of work to do."


	3. Chapter 3

_I should call my grandparents and tell them they're going to be great-grandparents. They'll be over the moon. They're the sort of people who call every week to see if they need to adopt in order to ensure the family line continues. I can't blame them; their progeny is rare and lives dangerous lives._

 _My mother was a twin, but her sister didn't survive to term. It weighs on all of them, that grief. My mom for a sister she never got a chance to grow up with; my gran and pop for the daughter they dreamed about and then had to bury. Then I came along, an only child of parents who insisted on leaving Earth behind and venturing into space instead of taking up the family business and maintaining the legacy._

 _My grandparents are die hard Earthers. They own a sprawling cattle ranch west of a town called Bowden in Alberta. It's a gorgeous place in the shadow of the Rockies. I spent every summer there, arriving in time to mount up and drive the cattle to summer pastures, and leaving when the leaves on the poplar trees turned a golden delicious yellow. Every year they tried to convince me to stay, to enroll in a real school, to have friends other than thirty-year-old Marines, and a life where pirates and batarians didn't lob missiles at my home._

 _I can't claim that it didn't tempt me. It did very much, but life on the Einstein was adventure and seeing somewhere new and wondrous every few days. It had its terrible and terrifying moments, the aforementioned pirate and batarian attacks, but my parents made even those bearable, if not special in their own right. Mom or Dad was always there to sit inside whatever fort or playhouse I'd built that day, wrap me in their arms, and read to me._

 _While the ship rocked, alarms blared, and fire blossomed outside the ports, I wielded the vorpal sword through the Looking Glass, received my letter to attend Hogwarts, or was rescued by Joe Greene at a fair after being used up by my days pulling a taxi cab. My parents turned fear into magic through their strong, loving arms and a pile of real books, my favourite of which was definitely Black Beauty despite all its tears._

 _Anyway, my grandparents have never met Ni. I'm not sure how they'd deal with his being turian. They'd be kind, of course, but they've never ventured farther from home than Calgary. It's strange to think that there are people who've never met someone from another world when I spend my days surrounded by people who call a hundred different planets home. So, it would take them time to adjust, but their grandchild … their great-grandchild … they'll be over the moon. I need to call them._

 **Eden Prime +2**

"That was unexpected." Anderson watched Tevos until the councilor disappeared through a side door. His deep brown eyes returned to stare into Shepard's, narrow and appraising. "How are you? Come through it, all right?"

Shepard walked over to the nearest bench and sat. "I will be." She cradled her head in her hands, folding down until her elbows impacted her knees, halting her collapse. "Just a bit of a headache. Feels like she took an eggbeater to my brain."

The captain sat next to her, starched straight, at attention even while sitting. She had no idea how he did it. He let out a long breath through a clenched jaw. "How's Nihlus doing?"

Pushing up off her knees, Shepard forced herself to sit back. "Hanging in there, but no change." Half her face screwed into a thoughtful scowl as she looked up the many stairs to the head of the chambers. "I asked Garrus to watch over him when I have to leave, which I imagine will be within minutes of finishing with the council."

She saw Anderson turn to level her with a considering stare. "You could ask for compassionate leave and stay with him."

"No. My place is out hunting that bastard down and figuring out what the hell he's up to. If it's about taking out human colonies or bringing about armageddon, we need to stomp on that now." Shepard coughed out a harsh laugh. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd say." She stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her uniform. "No doubt the good ambassador is up at the last set of stairs fretting because we haven't appeared." Stretching a fake smile over her face, she looked down at the captain. "We should set his mind to ease."

Anderson stood, but stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I had Admiral Hackett arrange three days leave for Hannah and Joe. It's taken them nearly a day to get here, and they'll have to head back out … the Kilimanjaro can't leave its patrol route, but they have a day and a half." He shrugged as if he wished he could have done more. "Stick around that long. Let them be here for you, let them share the good news. Relax, let the shock wear off. There is plenty that you can do to investigate Saren from the Citadel." His hand squeezed her arm. "I'll make it an order if I need to."

Shepard nodded, clearing her throat to relax the grip strangling her words. "Thank you, sir." Her fake smile dissolved into a genuine frown. "Who told you about the good news?"

He chuckled and held out an arm to usher her up the chamber. "I've known you since before you were born. I've watched you go through all the times Dr. Solus's experiment failed. No one had to tell me anything." He nodded toward the council's dais. "Shall we?"

Shepard let out a long grumble, and Anderson laughed. "Be nice. He is responsible for the party when you met Ni."

"That earns a spot on the Christmas card list at best." She sighed and started to climb. "I have no idea why the man likes me," she said in a low, petulant grumble. "I've never even been particularly polite." They climbed the set of stairs and circled around a garden. A shudder ran up Shepard's spine. The space felt all wrong empty. It should be teeming with uptight people in uptight suits.

"Udina likes you for the same reason Grissom likes you." Anderson shrugged as if the answer were as plain as day, but for the life of her, Shepard couldn't see it. "They're too self-important to allow for anything other than your tongue in cheek insolence is actually respect."

"Grissom stopped a formal inspection to ask me why I wasn't saluting him." Shepard shook her head. "I answered honestly."

Anderson's chuckle carried an edge. "I'm not sure the admiral was prepared for a ten-year-old quoting the regs on civilian dependents living aboard Alliance vessels." He reached out and laid his fingertips on her sleeve. She stopped and looked down at the hand, then his eyes when he removed it. He took a deep breath. "Look, Shepard, you're a Spectre. You don't answer to any of us in the end, but you need these people to cooperate with you. The council respects and trusts you, but the rest of the leaders don't know you." He met her gaze with even patience. "You don't have Nihlus to act as a buffer. So cool it."

A smile cracked her face, a trickle of mirth bleeding through. "Cool it?" She nodded and continued. "Acknowledging the cool it order, Captain."

Another soft, edged chuckle answered her as he followed just behind her right shoulder.

"Shepard!" The human ambassador strode toward her, hand extended, capturing hers between both of his when she took it. It took sucking her cheek in between her teeth and biting down to obey the 'cool it' directive and not yank her hand loose. Udina gave her a fairly genuine looking sorrowful frown. "My most sincere condolences on Spectre Kryik's injuries." The man's narrow, brown eyes narrowed even further, and his perpetually puckered brow disappeared into folds beneath his graying hair. "How is he doing? I've kept in touch with his medical team."

Shepard choked down the urge to ask him why he didn't know if he'd kept in touch with Ni's team, and managed a thin-lipped smile. "He's holding his own, thank you, Ambassador." Taking a calming breath, she extracted her hand from his dry, smooth grasp. "You received my packet with the hardsuit recordings and other evidence?"

He backed up a step, his scowl deepening rather than easing. Her heart slowed, a chill climbing her spine. "Yes, your reports were thorough and your evidence damning." He hesitated, and she saw a 'however' forming behind his teeth.

Shepard raised her eyebrows and leaned in, looming over him ever so slightly. "Ambassador?"

Udina cleared his throat and straightened, absently smoothing his suit panels. "Saren will no doubt argue that he fired his weapon in self-defence, and we have no evidence to counter that assertion. It will be the word of a Spectre against the word of a traumatized dock worker."

That made perfect sense. Shepard didn't see any reason for Udina's twitchiness. "The rest of the evidence is damning enough to mitigate that wrinkle," she said, "so what's the problem, sir?"

"Saren has appeared to defend himself." Udina spoke the words so quickly that it took a second for Shepard to understand them.

Her turn to scowl as her gut turned to ice. "He had the balls to appear?" That surprised her. Saren certainly wasn't the sort to shirk from a threat, but appearing at a meeting that would very likely end with a warrant for his apprehension? That didn't make sense at all. He wasn't stupid or a martyr.

"Oh no! No!" Udina said, his hands making an annoying supplicating gesture as if he feared she'd punch him. "Not in person, but he is appearing."

"Holo message?" Shepard let out a long, jagged sigh. "The bastard wants to tower over me and gloat, say my husband was the villain in his own shooting." She strode toward the last set of stairs and began to climb. "Don't worry, I've had to deal with Saren's loathing for years now. I'll cool it."

Despite her resolve not to let Saren intimidate her, Shepard stalled at the end of the long walkway suspended over a glassed-in garden below. About halfway between the council's platform and the supplicant's, a hologram of Saren awaited her—a storey up and nearly two storeys tall. The bastard had shot her husband in the back of the head in cold blood. How could the council expect her to stand up and give evidence?

Shoving her shoulders back so hard that her spine crunched, Shepard rolled her neck. and then stepped forward. She could do it. For Nihlus and the people of Eden Prime, she could stand there and keep her cool. Nihlus's hardsuit recording proved what happened. Saren wouldn't be able to deny it.

It helped that when she reached the end of the walkway, Anderson stepped up just behind her left arm, a silent bulwark of support.

"Spectre Shepard," Sparatus, the turian councilor, said by way of greeting. "Now all parties are present, this session of the Citadel Council, to hear evidence against Spectre Saren Arterius in the matter of the attack on Eden Prime and shooting of Spectre Nihlus Kryik, is called to order." He looked up at the massive holo of the turian Spectre. "How do you answer the charges of treason against the council, attempted murder of a fellow Spectre, attacking an Alliance colony, and colluding with the geth?"

Saren laughed, the sound chilling. "The charges are all ridiculous." His eyes, even more eerie than usual in his holographic form, turned from the council to stare down at Shepard. She met his gaze without flinching, all her nerves and doubts disappearing once she faced him. "I understand Spectre Shepard needing something to blame other than her own ineptitude, but that does not make her accusations any less insane. Nihlus is an old friend and a fellow Spectre."

Anderson stepped forward, pushing hard against Shepard's arm. "That just made it easy for you to take him by surprise. We have evidence from Nihlus's hardsuit that proves you were there and shot him."

"Ah, Captain Anderson, thank the spirits," Saren said, his voice dripping contempt. "I could hardly face such ridiculous charges without your presence. It's tradition with us, is it not?" The Spectre's mandibles flexed. "As is all charges against me being dismissed."

"Enough," Tevos said, her soft voice laden with such intense emotion that she drew all eyes.

Shepard pushed Anderson back a little. "What happened to cool it, sir?" she asked, casting a quick, chastising glance his way before giving her full attention to the asari councilor.

"The following is the recording from Spectre Kryik's hardsuit." The asari tapped at the console in front of her, a hologram appearing behind the council, a clear, two-dimensional image of Eden Prime's surface. Nihlus approached the platform, the camera showing the fires burning here and there, the destruction and the corpses. He swept the area, and catching movement out of the corner of his eye, ducked into cover. She heard him draw a long breath, preparing himself before he swung out, gun up and ready.

Shepard clenched her jaw as Nihlus asked Saren what he was doing there, a hard smile creeping across her lips, a rictus of satisfaction as Saren lied, saying the council had sent him. Closing her eyes, her heart feeling wrung out and exhausted, Shepard let the sound of her husband's voice roll over her. It had been almost three days since she last heard it. Who knew how long it might be before he spoke again, if ever. Her throat tightened, warning her to tear herself away from her emotions and wall them up as Saren assured Nihlus that he had everything under control.

She jumped, every muscle in her body seizing, as the shot shattered the air, so much louder from right next to the camera than it had been from a half klick or so away.

Silence dropped over the council chambers, the distant chatter of the fountain imitating the white noise of an open comm channel.

"There is no proof that I took that shot," Saren said, his voice still supremely confident. "For all you know, it was one of the geth trying to kill both of us."

"Geth trying to kill both of you with a single pistol shot?" Shepard opened her eyes, staring up at the holo. "There was a witness, Saren. A dock worker was hiding from the attack behind a stack of crates." She looked to the council for approval even as she brought up the file. When they gave her the nod, she played it.

Saren just laughed. "You really are reaching, aren't you, Shepard?" He crossed his arms beneath his keel. "I've been the loyal servant of the council since my twentieth cycle, and you think they'll believe the word of one traumatized dock worker?"

Shepard's turn to laugh, the sound coming from a place so cold that it dripped icicles that shattered in the void between them. "The unclipped footage clearly shows the approach of my party, and that none of us knew you were even present on Eden Prime. Despite that, that traumatized dock worker names you specifically, Saren. His testimony also correlates exactly to the footage."

Tevos captured Shepard's attention with a slight gesture. When Shepard acknowledged that the councilor had the floor once more, Tevos asked, "Within moments of Spectre Kryik's shooting, this vessel blasted off the surface. What can you tell us about it?" The asari looked up at Saren, her manner calm and unruffled, even expectant, as if she believed that despite everything, he would find his honour and answer her honestly.

Shepard watched Saren's face, marking each shift in expression. Although turian faces proved hard to read, much of their emotion expressed through their subvocals, Shepard had spent the last five years learning to tell when her husband tried to hide something from her, whether it was an injury or a surprise.

"It landed in the center of the colony, and released the geth. It appeared to be their mother ship," Saren replied. He didn't move other than to speak, his mandibles held high and tight.

Sparatus took a small step forward and drew himself up, his presence towering over the giant image of the Spectre. Shepard needed to have the turian councilor teach her that trick. "What were you doing on Eden Prime, Saren? We did not send you there." The low growl that slipped under the councilor's words amounted to a warning so clear that even Shepard understood it, the sound raising the hair on the back of her neck. Nothing disgraced a turian more than lies. Deceit meant tossing aside one's honour, putting your own selfish ends ahead of others. It meant not taking responsibility for one's actions.

"The Prothean beacon. I received intel that one had been discovered. I wanted to be sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands," the Spectre answered, not showing any trace of deceit. Of course, he hadn't really answered either.

The sound that came from Sparatus said that he also knew a lie of omission when he heard one. "Saren Arterius, even your brother—as misguided as he was—never denied his actions. Desolas never removed his familia notas, never lied about his intentions. Show the honour that he demonstrated, even in his madness, and answer honestly and fully. Have you allied yourself with the geth? Did you attack Eden Prime in order to take custody of the Prothean beacon for your own ends?"

Shepard held her breath, her heart pounding hard and quick in her chest. She hadn't expected any of the council to go so directly for the jugular, but apparently Sparatus had even less patience for half-truths and omissions than she did.

"Our cycle is at an end."

Shepard whirled to face Saren at the words. They'd come out in the Spectre's voice, yet they sounded all wrong—inhuman, if she could use that word for a turian—and they chilled her straight through to the marrow of her bones. The turian standing before them that moment, that Saren-not-Saren was the torin who'd tried to murder her husband … one of his oldest friends … in cold blood.

"Dear God," she asked, her voice hushed but carrying in the startled silence following Saren's statement, "what the hell have you gotten yourself—all of us—into, Saren?" She stepped right up to the edge. "What made you try to kill Nihlus?"

"Our cycle is at an end, our extinction come," Saren repeated, staring at her through eyes as blank as an iced over window. Something had siphoned out the Spectre's soul, leaving him hollow, but what? "We cannot fight it, and we can't avoid it." Without so much as a glance toward the council, his image disappeared, leaving Shepard gasping open-mouthed, a beached fish staring agape at the blank projector pad.

Dear God, preserve us all.

 _Oh, blessed gods of earth, arise and deliver us. Oh, blessed god of wind, descend and deliver us._

Her dream flashed through her mind, it's terror and hopelessness layered thick and desperate. No gods had appeared to save the Protheans, their prayers falling on deaf ears.

Fear poured into her, marbles dumped into a bin until they flowed over the top, pouring across the floor, an endless flood spreading out into every corner, filling every crevice. She backed up a step, knowing instinctively that Anderson had closed behind her. His hand gripped her elbow, steadying her and from the firmness of his grip, steadying himself as well.

Shepard greeted the delicate rumble of Tevos clearing her throat with a profound wash of gratitude, using the councilor's recovery as an anchor for her own. Still, the asari looked pale and shaky, an appearance quickly shed in favour of her usual stately serenity. Tevos swallowed and took a deep breath then looked to her fellow councilors. "I believe that can be considered a confession?"

"Undeniably," Valern replied, the salarian councilor looking on the verge of spontaneous combustion. "What was he talking about? Our extinction? He's clearly gone mad."

Oh, how Shepard wished that were true. "My vision," she replied, her voice low, still too tremulous to trust to full volume. "When I threw Lt. Alenko away from the Prothean beacon, it grabbed hold of me, lifted me into the air, and downloaded a vision into my head." Palms throwing up a wall to still their questions, Shepard shook her head. "I don't understand it. All I understand from it is fear and death and utter hopelessness."

Backing a half step further into Anderson's grip, she continued, "I had a dream earlier that I believe was caused by the information from the beacon." A nod and an appeasing gesture asked for their forbearance. "The wall exploded, the world washed red with the light of a giant beam weapon. The sky went dark, buildings collapsed … people screamed and prayed, but … ." Her gaze slid to the floor, her head shaking ever so slightly. "Nothing stopped them. Monsters … ." She grimaced, hating the superstitious slant to the word, but she couldn't think of another. "Monsters—part organic, part tech—ran everywhere, attacking people, dragging them off." A heavy shudder cut off her jumbled words.

Sparatus cleared his throat, managing to look even less comfortable with the vision than Shepard. His discomfort ignited a warm burst of gratitude deep in Shepard's chest when it didn't immediately warp into denial. She'd come at them accusing a much more seasoned Spectre of an atrocity. Her mission to retrieve the beacon had ended with a dead Marine, her husband's attempted murder, and the beacon exploding. They didn't have to believe her; in fact, denial was the far more understandable response.

"And you've witnessed this vision as well?" the turian councilor asked Tevos. Another low grumble answered her nod. "And?"

"It is as Shepard said." The councilor rolled her shoulders back a little and set her jaw. "I believe it was both a distress call and a warning. All I was able to glean from the vision was several sets of coordinates." She activated her omnitool, bringing up a small screen. "I entered them into my omnitool before this hearing began. They point to locations in the Sol system, the Athena nebula, Hades Gamma, Trebia, Pranas, and others. My staff are working on narrowing down the locations."

Valern crossed his arms over his robes, appearing to hunker down inside them. "And you believe this vision is worth taking seriously?" His tone made dubious sound downright affirming. Shepard found salarians brilliant—almost too brilliant—but cold and short-sighted. Short-lived and quick to process emotion, they just didn't seem to be able to see the long term effects of their actions.

Shepard's eyes narrowed, studying the rigid disbelief in the salarian's stance as she waited, breath held in aching lungs. Chasing down Saren and investigating the geth and the truth behind the nightmare inside her head would be greatly aided by the council's cooperation. If she needed to, she'd go rogue to exact justice for Nihlus, but … she really loved being a Spectre.

Tevos, naturally, spoke first. "That Saren need to be apprehended is without doubt. He has committed treason, and is responsible for attempted murder of a fellow Spectre, and war crimes." She paused and drew a deep breath. "As for the vision, and investigating Saren's involvement and intentions, I've seen this vision and the destruction wrought in it, and if there is even the slightest chance that it may come to pass, it must be looked into and the threat assessed." She tapped at the interface on her console, then looked up, meeting Shepard's eyes. "I vote that Spectre Shepard be assigned to looking into all leads related to the information from the beacon in the course of apprehending Saren." She turned to Sparatus, no doubt expecting him to be the more sympathetic to her plan.

"Although I do not believe that any details should be made public at this time," Sparatus said, his voice low and circumspect, "I agree that Saren must be apprehended and his connection to the geth revealed. We cannot allow geth armies to attack colonies with impunity. If they are moving outside the Perseus Veil in numbers large enough to nearly destroy humanity's largest and most stable, defended colony, where might they strike next?" Practical, like the torin. Gauge the known threat and eliminate it.

"While I agree Saren must be arrested or killed, and the geth threat assessed," Valern said and cleared his throat, "surely, you do not believe that the council should place any credence in this vision. There is no way to know where it came from or what it is about. It could even be a small part of a vid made for entertainment purposes."

Tevos spun and strode to his side. "Would you see it for yourself, Valern?"

Shepard tried to take another step back, feeling as though she was intruding on something best not witnessed, but Anderson blocked her retreat. Settling for letting Udina be the front man, she did her best to make herself invisible and let the council sort their issues. The vision must have rattled Tevos far more than the matriarch allowed to show. Shepard had never seen her confront either of the other two openly, and she felt certain that, even rattled, Tevos never would have done so in an open session.

"That will not be necessary," the salarian muttered, wriggling a little under his robes. "If you believe it is of importance, it cannot hurt to investigate it further. However, I agree that any mention of the geth and this vision must be kept sealed. If it gets out, it could lead to hysteria and panic, with severe consequences for colonization and economic stability."

Tevos returned to her console and looked to Sparatus. "Your decision?"

Shepard had to admire the nais's fortitude, once again. The asari acted as if the end of all life as they knew it was something she dealt with every day.

"I agree that Shepard should fully investigate the events on Eden Prime and follow all leads stemming from the attack and the loss of the beacon." He looked to Udina. "The _Normandy's_ stealth systems make it the perfect vessel to support her in this endeavour."

The ambassador paled, but nodded. "I will do my best to see that it is made available to her, Councilors."

Shepard watched him squirm, no doubt imagining all the butts he knew he'd have to kiss and all the favours he'd have to promise to get approval. The Alliance generally favoured telling the council to up the ante or go suck an egg when it came to anything that didn't grant Earth and her colonies some great boon.

Sparatus smiled and shook his head. "Tell them that one of the major considerations for council membership is the ability to protect council space. They are being presented with an opportunity to do just that."

Udina did a little stiff-backed, half bow that made him look like one of those birds that bobbed up and down, dipping its beak into a glass of water. "As you say, Councilor."

Shepard glanced back at Anderson, to see what the captain thought of his ship being commandeered. He met her eyes with something that looked more like pride than regret. She should have expected it from her parents' oldest and dearest friend. Facing front, she took a deep breath. Going out on her own to save all life, the most advanced ship in the galaxy at her command … it was every Spectre's dream. If only Ni was standing at her side, it would all be so very perfect.

Sparatus entered his decision in his console and turned to Valern. "Councilor?"

Valern glared at Shepard. "You and Spectre Kryik have served this council well, see that you continue to do so on your own, Spectre Shepard. It is of the utmost importance that this remains Top Secret."

Shepard stepped forward once more. "Understood, Councilors. I won't let you down."

"I'll forward the coordinates to you as soon as my people have located them and we do some basic reconnaissance," Tevos said. "We'll be available to assist as we can." The asari took a long breath, meeting Shepard's gaze with one of understanding and complete support. "Good luck, Spectre Shepard, and may the Goddess watch over us all."

* * *

( **A-N:** So, the truly mad AU element kicks in ... full council support. LOL It's actually really hard to write, and Valern ... well, he can't help himself. But, yeah, asking the question ... what would the council do if they believed and supported Shepard, is a lot harder than I anticipated. Anyway, thanks to all those who are giving this story a shot while I try to figure out what shape this Shepard's adventure wants to take. I appreciate the support very much.*hugs*)


	4. Chapter 4

_My parents took me to the ship's doc when I was five or six. They believed that life in space had done me some sort of harm, that a lack of peers and connection with family members other than the two of them had stunted my emotional growth. The problem was: I didn't cry. I wasn't afraid of the dark, things under my bed, or monsters in my closet. I didn't hide or scream when I watched scary vids or read scary stories. They thought it meant I was broken inside._

 _The doc told them that I was pretty normal for someone growing up in a large tin can in the black of space. She said that my lack of fear could be directly related to a lack of imagination. I simply lacked the vivid ability to dream up fears that other children possessed. She was, quite frankly, full of crap._

 _The truth was, there really was nothing in the dark that wasn't there in the light, only dirty socks lived under my bed, and vids were fantasy. The real threats came from poorly sealed air locks, fuel leaks, fighters crashing instead of landing in the hangar, missiles, boarding parties, holes in environment suits … . The list of actual terrors was long._

 _So, lack of imagination? No. I didn't lack imagination, I just knew that the things we most needed to fear were practical, not fanciful. After the no imagination diagnosis, my parents assured me that I didn't have to see the doc for any reason that didn't involve large amounts of blood, broken bones, or fever: real ailments or injuries._

 _Feel fear? I most assuredly did back then, and I still do. In fact, I think if you added up all the fear I've ever felt, it couldn't fill a corner of how afraid I've been these past two days. That damned turian is my entire life. How am I going to go out there and bring Saren down without Ni at my twelve? How am I going to face the monsters in the beacon vision without his courage or humour?_

Sweet spirits … Ni … please, let me wake up with your arms around me. Please smile and laugh and then tease me about about my worrying … about how invincible you are … how you'll never leave me. Please, let it all be just some terrible nightmare.

 _I can tell when Anderson looks at me, he's trying to figure out how I could leave … chase off across the galaxy when the machines in that hospital room will likely go silent at some point in the next couple of days. Oh, spirits, if they do … . If I'm sitting there, holding his hand when they trade the steady beep for the long droning … how will I take the next breath in? How will I let go of those talons, get up, and walk out of that room?_

 _How do you survive when the best part of you leaves? That void on the other side of Ni's … death … having to tell his child about the father who died just as he or she began … I fear them more than anything._

 _So yes, I'm scared. I'm god-damned bloody terrified. And that's why I've got to keep moving. If I stay still, I might start screaming, and if I start screaming, I might never stop._

 **Eden Prime +3**

Shepard leaned against the opposite wall from where Anderson and Udina stood and watched the lights flick past in the elevator shaft. Udina hadn't spoken a word since the council dismissed them. Well, other than into his omnitool, making arrangements over the comms to try to secure the _Normandy_ for her use.

"You're going to drop by Barla Von's office on your way back to the hospital?" Anderson asked, his heavy-lidded stare as piercing as any scanner. He still kept tight shutters in place to prevent her from reading him back, but she could tell that losing the _Normandy_ would hurt. Anderson had almost been the first human Spectre once, before Saren made sure he didn't. Now, the woman who'd succeeded where he hadn't was taking his ship. Politics sucked.

Shepard hummed as she nodded despite the frown puckering her brow and the skin around her lips. Saren and Anderson could add up to another lead. How long had Saren been corrupted? Did it go back that far? But damn, how did she find any of that information? It wasn't as if he'd leave a trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow. The Shadow Broker might be able to fill in some of the blanks for her. Well, she'd planned on dropping in to chat with Barla Von—one of the Broker's agents—anyway, now she just needed to buy the answers to a couple more questions.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Anderson asked, shooting Udina a glare when the ambassador made a decidedly unhappy noise.

Shepard pressed her lips together to hide any sort of mean-spirited mirth. "No, it seems the ambassador has need of you, so I'll leave you to his devices." Filling her lungs with a long breath of recycled and filtered air, she shrugged. "The walk will do me good. I need some time to brace for mom and dad."

Anderson just nodded, but his shoulders betrayed the sigh he tried to hide. He said nothing for the remainder of the ride down, but then followed her as she turned right, toward the bridge past the relay monument.

"Anderson? I need you to help me make these arrangements!" Udina shouted after them. He followed a couple of steps, then stopped and looked around as if realizing he was making a scene.

"I'll join you in your office in a few minutes, Ambassador," Anderson replied at a much more subdued volume, then Shepard heard jogging footsteps approaching her from behind. A gentle hand snagged her elbow. "Katlynn, stop for a moment. Let's talk."

Shepard shook her head. "Can't stop, Anderson. I've got a massive investigation to plan so that when I leave the Citadel, I'm using my time efficiently." Glancing sideways at him, she let out a low rumble. "And now, because someone can't leave well enough alone, I've got to handle my parents for nearly two days. Two days that could be best used figuring out what the hell Saren is doing and what this extinction is."

Anderson pulled her to a halt. "Kat, your husband was just shot. Running won't change that fact. Maybe instead of trying to brace to deal with Hannah and Joe, you should let them take care of your for a couple of days. Take this time to—"

Shepard tugged her arm free and backed down the street. "No one is more aware of Ni's condition than I am, Anderson. Please, just let me deal with this in my own way." She turned and started down the street. Before she made it ten metres, her comm chimed. Knowing who it was before she activated it, she sighed and reached up to her implant. "Can never let anyone else get the last word, can you?"

"Look, Shepard," the captain's voice said in her ear. She supposed she should be glad he had too much dignity to shout across the presidium. "When my wife left me, I did the exact same thing you're doing. I told myself that if I kept going, pushed myself, and did the work, I'd be okay. I'd never have to feel it." He sighed. "And it worked for a while, but when the crash came, every minute I delayed added to it. I ended up hitting the wall so hard I needed to take leave."

"Anderson, this isn't—"

"I know it's not the same, it's a thousand times worse. You and I … we're too much alike, kid. Trust me. Take the hit now. Let your parents and Vakarian support you through it, and go out with as clear a head as you can. Otherwise, who knows where you'll be when it catches up with you." A resigned sigh hissed in her ear when she didn't reply. "All right, I'd better catch up with Udina. He's going to need some help dealing with the admirals."

"Good luck. Shepard, out." Shepard headed over the bridge toward Barla Von's office, pausing beneath the relay monument to look out over the fountains erupting from the presidium lake. She hadn't meant anything against her parents when she said she needed to brace herself for dealing with them. They were the best parents anyone could ask for, and that was the problem. They'd wear down the walls holding everything at bay, and once her walls fell, who knew what would happen.

After a couple more breaths, she continued on to the first office along the section of street. The nearly bare room on the other side of the door reflected the volus financial advisor's life and business perfectly. It contained only his desk, his computer servers, and a couple of chairs for visitors. On his desk, a bevvy of monitors scrolled stock prices and news items off the extranet.

"Spectre Shepard-Kryik, how good to see you again," the short, suited alien said, pausing between his words to take a deep, hissing breath of the methane stored in tanks on his back. "I was so very sorry to hear about Eden Prime. Is there anything Vol-clan can do to assist during this time of grief?"

Grateful that her contact brought things right to the point, Shepard nodded. "There is, thank you."

"Please sit." He picked up a datapad and walked around the desk. "The Shadow Broker asked Vol-clan to convey his regrets and forwarded this."

Shepard settled herself on the simple, leather chair and reached out to take the offered pad. She activated it and scrolled quickly through the contents, a wave of gratitude washing over her, so strong that it left her dizzy. "This is … unexpected," she replied, truly surprised by the Broker's generosity.

"Spectre Kryik and yourself have greatly aided the Broker over the cycles, providing information that has saved lives and made him a significant profit," Von explained. He backed up a couple of steps and leaned against the desk. "Saren has betrayed him, and he wishes to aid your search. He also included the names of several surgeons who are performing cutting edge research into treating traumatic head injuries. Two are not commonly known, as they work for Cerberus."

Shepard jerked back a little at that. "Cerberus is a terrorist organization, Von." Blowing a small, disgusted puff of air out her nose, she set aside the datapad. "Anyway, why would anyone working for a human supremacist organization be willing to help a turian?"

"Normally, they would not. However, Cerberus has demonstrated a great deal of interest in you over the past year, conducting a significant amount of covert surveillance." His little arms lifted in the volus version of a shrug. "Surely, you expect them to show interest in the first human Spectre."

Shepard snorted full out that time. Cerberus gave her the willies. "I'd expect them to try to blow me up for colluding with the council and marrying a turian. Make an example out of me."

"According to the Shadow Broker's intel, they favour recruiting you over killing you." The little fellow shrugged again. "You may be able to leverage that fact to your advantage."

Despite the surge of disgust that burned in her throat, Shepard swallowed it and moved on. The volus were all about trading, and trading to one's advantage. But she'd be three days dead before she agreed to help Cerberus.

 _Even if their doctors were the only ones that could save Ni? You'd crawl in their front door and lick the Illusive Man's boots if they were Ni's last hope._

Shoving that ugly truth aside, she took a deep breath, trying to settle herself. The business at hand wasn't Cerberus, or even Nihlus: it was Saren. "Is there anything in here that will help me track Saren? I've got to find that bastard and figure out what he's up to."

The volus let out an extra long wheeze. "An asari matriarch of great influence has disappeared. According to the acolytes who did not accompany her, she left with Saren. The acolytes claim that she seeks to guide him down a path that will not lead to destruction and death, but they do not know what that path is." He tipped a hand toward the datapad. "The names of those who spoke to the Broker's agents are included, along with contact information for a Dr. Liara T'Soni, who is the Matriarch's daughter. Dr. T'Soni is an archeologist whose specialty is the Prothean extinction."

"She sounds like a solid lead, thank you." Shepard's omnitool chimed. She glanced at it to see a message from her mother. They'd arrived, and Garrus was escorting them over to the hospital. After closing the message, Shepard leaned forward in her chair, forearms braced against her thighs. Bringing herself down to a level with the tiny financier, she stared into Von's glowing 'eyes'. "I need to find the quarian flotilla. Do you know where they are?"

He walked around his desk, short legs making his gait sway a little. "The flotilla has been avoiding charted space, but I was able to purchase their position from a pilgrim yesterday."

Shepard smiled, a bitter gash of sardonic humour. Of course he had; Von's foresight made him the financial advisor and agent he was. No doubt, as soon as he heard the word geth connected with anything outside the Perseus Veil, he'd deployed dozens of feelers to scoop up all the information he could.

"Excellent, thank you." She glanced down at the datapad as the information appeared. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the flotilla's last known coordinates. They truly had headed out beyond charted space. Although, since the quarians lacked a homeworld or colony planets to support them, they had been forced to scavenge and barter to keep their ships in working order and their people fed. In order to do that, they needed to go where they wouldn't step on anyone's toes.

She pushed up onto her feet. "I need you to set up an account to handle all of Ni's expenses. I'll set everything up to be automatically withdrawn." She let the hand holding the datapad fall to her side. "Is there anything else?" When he answered to the negative, she nodded. "Thank you for your help. If anything else crosses your desk about Saren, the geth, the Reapers, or anything you believe will assist me, please send it on. Usual terms. I'd be particularly grateful for any intel on Saren's activities after the incidents on Sidon and Camala."

"Good luck, Spectre Shepard-Kryik." One little claw hand lifted in a half-wave.

"Thank you." Shepard spun and strode out the door, her eyes focused inward as she began sorting and cataloguing what he'd told her. She paused at the cab stand, considering walking back to the hospital, but as much as she'd enjoy the time alone, she couldn't justify it. Not with her parents waiting. Letting out a long, resigned sigh, she called a cab.

She spent the entire trip to Huerta Memorial going through the information Barla Von had given her, and then outlining a plan to make the best use of relay placement and travel time. Of course, the outline depended on the _Normandy_ being made available to her. She disembarked outside the hospital and paused to add a note to remind her to contact the local ship broker if she didn't hear from Udina before the end of the day. If he didn't get clearance for the _Normandy_ , she'd have to hire a small yacht and a crew, which could set her back a couple of days if she wasn't prepared.

"I asked the captain to let me come in and see you alone." Joseph Shepard's voice yanked Shepard out of her thoughts. She glanced around, startled to find that she'd walked all the way from the cab stand to the inner door of Ni's room without realizing it. She slid a foot forward to step through the decon fields, but then stopped. Her father had said he wanted to talk to Ni alone, she should let him.

"The captain and I came a long way, son," her father continued. "We came mostly to be here for Kat, to hold her because even though she'll deny it, she's scared and in pain." The major let out a long sighing sort of chuckle. "We named her well. She reacts to things in a very feline manner: hiding when she's hurt and striking out when she's scared." Shepard heard his boots take a couple of steps. "And we came to remind you that you are loved." Joseph Shepard cleared his throat and hummed a little, her father's tell when he got emotional. She hadn't fallen far from the 'embarrassed to show emotion' tree.

Shepard leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around her waist, her heart pounding. She should leave. Her father was going to break everything, just as she'd known he and her mother would. Still, she didn't move, the silent room and gruff rumble of her father's voice holding her captive, her eyes slipping closed to the familiar music.

"You promised me some things when you asked to marry my daughter," Joe continued. "But there are only two of those promises I want you to remember right now. You promised to love her as long as you lived." Silence fell for so long that Shepard began to count the seconds before another strangled sort of rumble-cough combination shattered the quiet.

Joe cleared his throat one more time, that one softer as his vocal chords relaxed. "It hasn't been long enough, Nihlus. You still need to keep your second promise: that you would look after her. She's tough and capable … hell, she made it to N7 without batting an eyelash. But for all her thick skin, and despite that strong, clenched jaw, she needs you. She needs protection—to be taken care of—sometimes, and there's no one the captain and I trust to look out for our beautiful girl more than you."

Shepard wrapped her arms around herself and turned her back to the wall, buttressing herself against its solid support. Squeezing her eyes closed, she clenched her teeth and fought back against the monster growing in the back of her throat, its claws sinking into her sinuses and climbing up toward her eyes.

"The captain and I have never known what we did to deserve that girl." Her father chuckled. "Sometimes we said that in exasperation, but mostly because she's a miracle the likes of which no man or woman can earn. I don't think anyone other than maybe her grandparents understood that until you. No one really _saw_ her until you." Her father sniffed hard, his voice thick and choked as he continued, "And that's why I'm holding you to those promises, son."

Tears crept from the corners of Shepard's eyes, burning like acid. She swiped at them, then hugged her arms around herself again.

"I'm not sure if she's ever told you this, but the day after she met you, she called us aboard the _Kilimanjaro_. I'd never seen her like that: flushed and giddy, bouncing inside her skin like a teenager. She told us that she'd found the one person in the galaxy for her." A warm chuckle rolled deep in his throat. "When she said who it was, the captain nearly panicked and started looking up private investigators. She was certain that a Spectre, and a famous one at that, had to be a player who would break our Kat-bird's heart."

A thin smile pressed across Shepard's lips. That sounded like her mother. Captain Hannah Shepard was an intractable and merciless force to be reckoned with when anything threatened the people she loved.

Shepard turned as the door behind her opened, and the captain, herself, stepped through. They stared into one another's eyes for a moment, then Hannah held out her arms, waving her fingers toward her palms, ordering Shepard into her embrace.

Strong, loving arms wrapped around the Spectre, pulling her in tight. The captain didn't speak, just held her, one calloused hand pressed to Shepard's hair, the other rubbing her back. Bending down, the embrace awkward thanks to the difference in their heights, Shepard slipped her arms around her mother and hugged her back.

Tears continued to bully their way past her control, soaking into the captain's shoulder. Damn, but didn't it feel good to be held?

"Is your dad finished lecturing Nihlus?" Hannah whispered, then pressed a strong kiss to Shepard's cheek.

Shepard just shook her head, not trusting her voice, and turned her face into her mother's shoulder, breathing in her well-loved, no-nonsense scent. The captain had always been warm hugs; strong reprimands; quick, solid footsteps; sparkling hazel eyes; and the scent of washed linen and shampoo.

"Oh my precious girl." Hannah pulled away and reached up to cradle Shepard's face between her hands. "You look exhausted." Gentle thumbs brushed the tears from her daughter's cheeks. "When I've had a chance to see Ni, we'll go get something to eat. All right?" She smiled, a solid, hopeful expression just edged with teasing. "Garrus is arranging for us all to be able to stay here tonight." She caressed Shepard's cheek. "He promises the cots will not be painful, and then you will let your father and I keep watch while you sleep."

Knowing that arguing would prove useless, Shepard nodded.

Her mother pulled Shepard down to press a kiss against her brow. "I'm going to go in and see my son-in-law, make sure he knows how hard I'll kick his ass if he leaves us." She caressed Shepard's cheek again, her touch warm and calloused, then released her and stepped around to pass through the decon fields.

Shepard turned to follow, but stopped when her omnitool chimed an incoming message. It was a text only from the Alliance via Udina, granting her command of the _SSV Normandy_ effective immediately. That was followed by one from Andersson, officially relinquishing his command. Shepard stared at the second for long moments. She'd never commanded a ship. Before Elysium, she'd worked her way up the ranks much like everyone else, but then ICT had basically taken her out of the command structure.

"Kat?"

Her mother's call pulled her from her thoughts. Shaking off the nerves that exploded in her belly, all ticking, insect legs and sharp teeth, Kat stepped through the decon field. Nihlus lay facing the other direction. His team had turned him to prevent bedsores. Even the best mem-cell mattresses weren't enough to keep turians' bones from wearing through their hide over the long term.

Her father met her at the end of the bed and wrapped her in a breath-stealing hug that lifted her feet off the ground. "Hey there, Kat-bird." He kissed her ear then set her down and pulled away to hold her at arm's length. "You look beat, kid."

She smiled up into her father's eyes and nodded. "So Mom said." If Shepard was a tank, her father was a small frigate. At nearly seven feet, Major Joseph Shepard could out-bench and out-deadlift subordinates thirty years his junior, and worked out hard enough to claim that throne for decades to come. High, tight chestnut hair barely managed to frame a face featuring laughing, brown eyes and a lantern jaw that put hers to shame. Growing up, she'd always imagined that her father was a superhero.

She gulped down sudden tears and looked down. He was a superhero … hers.

A gentle knuckle tapped under her chin. "Chin up, Kat-bird. Nihlus and I have come to an agreement. He's in for the long haul."

Shepard met her father's gaze and nodded, but it was her mother who answered.

"Damn right, Ni's clever enough to know how hard I'll kick his backside if he doesn't get up out of this bed and look after our girl." Anyone who looked at Hannah Shepard and thought her pretty, matronly appearance made her the less intimidating or dangerous of Shepard's parents quickly changed their minds the second the captain's stare landed on them. Anderson claimed that Hannah Shepard had once brought down an enemy cruiser just by glaring at it.

Shepard's father slipped an arm around her and led her to side of the bed.

"Hey there, verro." Shepard bent to kiss her husband's nose, then wrapped both hands around the talons peeking out from under the blankets. "Don't listen to these two. They love you to pieces, and you know it." She kissed him again, then straightened without releasing her bond-mate's hand.

"David messaged just before I came in," her mother said, a crooked smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. "He said you've got a few things to tell us?"

Shepard sighed. Anderson could never keep his mouth shut. Sometimes it felt far too much like having three parents. Of course, she'd intended to tell her folks everything, but maybe not in the first five minutes.

Another sigh and Shepard nodded. "There's a couple of things. The Council convinced the Alliance to turn the _SSV Normandy_ over to my command so that I can track down Saren."

Her father hugged her tight against his side. "Excellent. From what David's said, she's an amazing ship."

"Congratulations on your first command," her mother added, her smile warm and bright with pride. And also foreknowledge. Damn, Anderson had let the cat out of the bag.

"Thanks." Kat ran her bottom lip between her teeth and raised her eyebrows. "Ni and I have some news for you as well." She paused, trying to decide on the best tone for delivery, then ended up just blurting out, "In about thirty-three weeks, you're going to be grandparents."

Her father swept her up into another bear hug. "That's wonderful, Kat-bird." He planted a rough, scruffy kiss on her cheek, then set her down, turning her over to her mother's much more reserved embrace.

"I'm so happy for you." Hannah's eyes glassed over with rigidly controlled tears as she backed out of the hug and gripped both of Kat's hands in hers. "I know how much you two have gone through for this." She looked over at Nihlus. "Well, that clinches it then, Ni. Up you get. You've got thirty-three weeks to get ready to be a daddy."

"Ni never knew his pari," Kat said, returning to hold her verro's hand. "He was killed when Nihlus was just a baby." She leaned into her father as he pulled her into his side. "He's sworn from the first that his children would grow up with a father, even if he had to retire." Pressing her husband's hand against her stomach, Shepard said, "Then ... the day we find out … ." Brisk, frantic strokes rubbed the back of Ni's talons as she stared down at his still form. "How … ?" She broke off, panic setting in, scalpel sharp, slicing her open from the inside. "I … I don't … ." A sob caught her unaware as it broke from her lips, a sharp hiccup of sorrow that tore a handful of her guts out with it.

Her parents grabbed her in their arms, pressing her tight between them, Hannah's hand lifting to ease Shepard's head down onto her shoulder. Their love—the tightness of their embraces and the depth of their devotion—sucked all the air from the space between them, leaving Shepard gasping and dizzy.

"I've never seen any husband adore his mate more than Nihlus adores you," her father said, his voice gentle but firm, his breath warm and soothing against her ear. "He won't leave you and his baby. You just hold tight to that."

Shepard nodded and clung to them, her face buried in the collar of her mother's uniform. Scalding tears forcing their way past her control as her parents took pickaxes to her walls. "I'm so scared, Mom," she whispered. "What am I going to do if I lose Ni? I can't raise this baby on my own." As she said the words out loud, the truth of it registered, and her knees gave out, her parents' grip on her the only thing holding her upright. Tears flowed, hot and thick, a tide threatening to drown her before it receded.

"You're okay, baby. We've got you. Just let it all go. Ni is going to come through this," the captain whispered, rubbing Shepard's back in slow circles. "But, if he doesn't, we'll be right here to help you raise our grandbaby. You'll never be alone, poptart. Not one, single, solitary second."

Shepard's backside hit the seat of a chair before she realized that her parents had guided her over to one and sat her down. While her mother held her, her father rolled over chairs for the both of them. A loving set of arms holding her from either side, her husband's hand clutched between both of hers, Shepard finally let the walls crumble before the tide.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! All the love. ALL of it! :D


	5. Chapter 5

_Nihlus is a philosopher. My first introduction to how deep his waters ran came during that first crazy night and in the form of his theory about how we're all perpetually trapped in a state of existential twilight. He said we all exist on the cusp of life and death, both horizons right there, within our reach. Fear holds us in limbo between them, never fully embracing either until inertia smacks us into death. Now, granted, it might have been the endorphins influencing my state of mind, but I completely understood what he meant, and his passion was intoxicating. He said if you didn't embrace the twilight and revel in it, you might as well just throw yourself out the exit._

 _If my mother had heard him, she would have grabbed him by the fringe and dragged him out the door, certain that it was some 'strong, sensitive type' pick up line that he used on all the women. Truth was, he'd always felt embarrassed to share that part of himself. Spectres were supposed to be all running and gunning and heroic poses with explosions in the background. They weren't supposed to stop and spend twenty minutes admiring the tenacity of a weed growing up through a crack in the concrete._

 _Anyway … where was I? Right, trapped in limbo between coming in and heading out._

 _I've always been much better at arriving than I am at leaving. Seems ridiculous, I suppose. One can't arrive anywhere without first leaving the place one was. Perhaps it's not even leaving, but the painful leap across the brief expanse of the unknown into the new that unsettles me. Anyway, asking me to apply logic to these things is like asking a dog to tend bar. You might end up with a cocktail in front of you, but you don't want to know what went into it._

 _This newest leap into the unknown is particularly and keenly uncomfortable. I don't know any of the people under my command. I'm leaving everyone I know and care about behind me. Maybe I should have brought Garrus along and left Nihlus's security to the Shadow Broker. It would be comforting to have at least one familiar face in the crowd._

 _No, leaving my heart behind on the Citadel will be hard enough to do without adding the worry of leaving him in the care of strangers. Even though the damage is done and Saren would gain nothing by finishing what he started on Eden Prime, I don't trust that bastard to see things that way. He's just as likely to kill Ni for no reason other than hurting me._

 _Saren and I have never had what anyone could call a cordial relationship. He hates humans far too much to accept me as a Spectre or as his protege's bond-mate. I hate arrogant assholes with god complexes far too much to accept his right to breathe. I might just be responsible for half our issues. Maybe. I can't help it. Every time I come within a light year of Saren, my guns all insist on peppering him with rounds._

 _Huh, there might be an upside to this departure after all. At the end of it, I get to put a round or two straight through that bastard's skull._

 **Eden Prime +4**

The soft, flanged rumble of a turian clearing his throat announced Garrus's presence at the door. Shepard glanced over as he stepped through the decon fields. He gave her a fleeting, sympathetic smile. "You ready to go?"

Shepard shifted in her chair and stretched. "Yeah, as ready as I'm ever going to be." She reached out, laying a gentle hand against the chocolate and white fringe that peeked out from between the bandages. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to the flat of Ni's nose. "Okay," she whispered, praying her words made it through the distance between them, "this is the situation, verro." She kissed him again. "I've got to go chase Saren down and make sure he doesn't get a chance to do whatever the hell he's trying to do. While I'm out there, Garrus is going to keep an eye on things here and keep you safe for me."

A thick, phlegmy sigh spooled out of her, a trickle of escaping pressure … just enough to avoid an explosion. She rested her head on the pillow next to his. "I know I say it all the time, pulkar verro, but I love you so much. I'll make you a deal. I'll take care really good care of this little piece of us. I promise you that. I'll keep our baby safe. I'll even let Dr. Chakwas mother hen me until her heart's content." Blinking away the tears clouding her vision, she sniffed, pulling the keen ache back in and locking it away, then touched the end of her nose to his. "But you've got to promise me to fight. You've got to get better and help me raise our family."

A soft chuff from the door pulled another sigh from her. Yeah, yeah, she knew all about the ticking clock. "I don't want to. God, I don't want to, but I've got to go, verro." She kissed every exposed millimetre of her husband's face. "Dear spirits, you'd better not let me down, Ni. You're my whole universe." She smiled and straightened a little to press her hand over her stomach. "You and this little one." After kissing him one last time, she stood. "I'll be back as soon as I can, and I'll have Garrus relay messages every day."

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, making her jump. She hadn't even heard Garrus walk up. Turning to the torin, she gave him a tight-lipped smile. "You'll look after him?"

"His doctors will be applying for peace bonds to get rid of me," the officer promised, nuzzling her forehead. "Go save the galaxy, Spectre Shepard-Kryik. Your verro is safe with me."

Shepard kissed him. "Thank you. You're the best of torins and friends." She pulled free of his arm, took one last look at her husband, then spun on her heel and strode from the room, harsh, silent sobs clawing their way up her throat. It wasn't fair. They were supposed to die within a minute or two of one another, their kids and grandkids gathered around them. He wasn't supposed to die alone … like this … .

 _Stop it! Just fucking stop it!_

Taking a long breath just inside the outer door, she squared her shoulders, cracked her neck, and clenched her jaw. No, it wasn't fair, but nothing in life was. All anyone could do was make the best of the crap that life threw at them. She swiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and tugged down the hem of her dress uniform.

She had work to do.

Her mother and father stood near the reception desk, their arms around one another, talking in low tones, but as soon as Shepard stepped through into the lobby, they hurried to her side and wrapped her in a tight hug. After a moment, Shepard pulled away and kissed them both on the cheek.

"Come on, you two." She wrapped an arm around each of them and started toward the elevator. "The _Normandy_ had better get you back to the _Kilimanjaro_ before it reports you UA."

When they arrived at the private dock that housed the Alliance's most advanced and carefully guarded secret, Anderson, Udina, and a small retinue of the _Normandy's_ officers awaited her just outside the docking arm. Panic stomped on the brakes when the elevator door opened and she saw them assembled there.

Dear spirits, what was she doing? Spectres didn't captain crews. Spectres didn't fight wars or lead armies. They weren't broad-spectrum antibiotics going up against an infection. She and Ni formed a laser scalpel, a precise instrument that cut out the source of the problem before it hit the bloodstream.

She hadn't been a part of a team since before Elysium. Sure, she went through officer training with the Alliance, and they stressed leadership during her years working through the Villa, but the task laid out before her was a whole different animal.

"Come on, Kat-bird," her father said, gripping her elbow in a big, warm hand. "You've got this." He chuckled and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "In a week, no one will remember that you haven't been in command of the _Normandy_ for years. You're a born leader who has allowed herself to follow in someone else's shadow." He tossed up a quick wall, his palm lifting to stop her argument before it escaped. "Ni's shadow has been great for you. He's taught you more than a decade in ICT, but there comes a time to step out into the light."

Her mother nodded, a sly grin tweaking one corner of her mouth. "He's right, poptart. And you're ready."

When she stepped out of the elevator all except Udina snapped to attention and gave her a crisp salute. Despite not really knowing where she fit into Alliance hierarchy, or even if she did, she returned their salute, accepting the mantle of the _Normandy's_ de facto captain.

Udina stepped up to shake her hand. "Good luck, Shepard. I know that you'll do the Alliance and humanity proud."

Shepard shook his hand twice then released him. "Thank you, Ambassador." She looked past the politician, a crooked grin answering the sour-milk expression twisting Anderson's face. "I'll do my best."

Anderson followed the ambassador, wrapping Shepard's hand in a strong, calloused grip. "The _Normandy_ is a hell of a lady, Shepard. Take good care of her crew."

"I will, Anderson." She pulled him into a quick, one-armed hug, prompted by a heady mixture of regret, guilt, and gratitude.

The captain pulled away, then passed her a bottle of dark, spiced rum. "It's bad luck to sail without setting the souls of the departed to rest." When she took the bottle, he passed out plastic cups. She followed in his wake, pouring a finger's worth of rum into each cup then stepped back. The first ceremony belonged to Anderson.

Anderson raised his cup. "Would anyone like to say anything?"

Alenko stepped forward. "It's been a long time since I met a kid as green or as eager as Richard Jenkins." He paused, smiling as he shook his head. "Our first day aboard, Jenkins saw me running my biotic drills and dared me to throw him as hard as I could." He shrugged. "So I threw him, but not with anywhere near my full power." He mimed the action with his free hand as he told the story, adding the former private's flailing arms, then his hitting the mats. "Knocked the wind right out of him. As he sprawled there, gasping, Nihlus walked over and looked down, and said, 'You take a hit well.'" Alenko laughed along with everyone else. "Jenkins scrambled up, fanboying so hard I thought he was going to pass out."

"Couldn't stop him from showing off the bruises on his backside," the pilot, Jeff 'Joker' Moreau added. "I've still got partial hysterical blindness."

Shepard chuckled, the optimism and camaraderie of the trip to Eden Prime warming her. "Everywhere Ni and I went for those three days, Jenkins was never more than a couple of metres away." She lifted her glass. "To a good kid who brightened the lives of those around him and who died protecting his home. He deserves to be remembered as a hero."

"To Private Richard Jenkins," Anderson said, lifting his glass to lead the toast.

"And to the gropos of the 212," Williams added, her soft words capturing Shepard's attention. "' _With weeping and with laughter still is the story told, how well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old.'_ " (1) She paused after the verse and raised her glass. "To the fallen, heroes, each and every one."

Shepard stepped forward when Anderson nodded, turning the crew over to her. She straightened. "To the fallen, may they guard our six out there in the black." She reminded herself of the names that went along with the faces as she met their glasses: Adams, Pressly, Chakwas, Moreau, and then Alenko and Williams. They drank, then bowed their heads, a sacred bubble of silence forming around them as they honoured the lost, taking solace in the fact that if the mission required them to lay down their lives, they too would be honoured and remembered.

After the minute, Shepard smiled and lifted her glass. "I believe it is also tradition to raise a glass to the success of the voyage. To the _Normandy_ and her crew: May we return victorious, having served with honour." After the others echoed her, she belted down the last swallow of rum, bracing herself, then passed her cup to Williams. "All right, to stations. Pre-flight inspection in thirty."

When the crew passed through into decon, Shepard handed Anderson the alcohol. "Something tells me you'll need that more than I will," she teased, trying to ease the unsettled twist in her guts that insisted she had no right to command the _Normandy_. "Good luck with Udina."

"Hackett assures me that I'll be reassigned within the month." He chuckled. "Meanwhile, I'll keep digging for anything that will help you out there." After he traded handshakes and hugs with Hannah and Joe, the captain made a starched turn on his heel and marched to what Shepard would have considered a fate worse than death, his back straight and his head held high.

"Mind if we tag along on your inspection?" her dad asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I'd love the tour."

Shepard grinned and nodded. "Absolutely, VIP all the way." Just outside the _Normandy's_ outer hatch, her determination evaporated. Anderson was right. She had no business being anywhere but her husband's side until things resolved one way or the other.

Her mom turned back and held out her hand. "Step across, poptart. It'll all fall into place as soon as you start the work."

Filling her lungs, Shepard nodded and grasped her mother's fingers, that unshakeable grip pulling her over the threshold. As the hatch closed and the decon sweep began, she released the breath and squeezed her mother's hand before she released it. "Please don't call me poptart in front of the crew," she whispered. "The last thing I need is to be Captain Poptart for the rest of my career."

Hannah chuckled, the well-loved warmth of the sound bolstering Shepard's courage. "I make no promises, but I'll do my best."

 **Eden Prime +4**

"Urdnot Wrex?" Shepard strode to the open door of her new cabin, hand extended to grip the krogan's wrist. She squinted to see him clearly. Despite turning on every lamp in the cabin, she still couldn't manage enough light to see what she was doing. The whole ship ran at half luminosity except the mess. Had she missed some Alliance Riddick vision upgrade?

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, shoving aside her internal diatribe. "I trust that my crew has made you comfortable over the past couple of days?"

The krogan stood seven and a half feet to the top of his hump, but like most krogan, his face stood at a level with her breasts. Luckily, krogan didn't give even the slightest crap about boobs, because she'd yet to meet one that didn't spend their time talking to her chest.

"So, you're Shepard?" he asked, cocking his head to look at her.

"I am." She released him and stepped back to take some of the weight off her stare. Remembering that they couldn't see all that well directly in front of them, she stepped to one side. A half dozen or so scars had been carved through the heavy crest on his head, one of them looking deep enough to have given him pause. Four of the scars carried on down his face and a couple had taken chunks out of his neck. Impressive. He must prove popular with the females.

The behemoth grunted, bristling at her evaluation. Turning the scales on her, he jutted his chin out, his head tilting as he leveled one, carmine eye on her. She had to admit, the effect was intimidating. "You the Spectre?" he asked, his voice rough and deep, but not aggressive.

His dark red armour bore as many scars as his face, a sign of a hard fighter who drove at the enemy, charging the lines. She could use a little berserker muscle on her team of Alliance-trained Marines. They'd fight by the numbers, all known, careful quantities on the battlefield, which was great, but sometimes battle called for a wild card.

"Yeah, I am. Come on in and take a seat." Shepard led the way over to the table in the center of her cabin and sat. "Would you like some coffee or tea … hot chocolate?"

"No." Urdnot Wrex lumbered over and sat, the chair letting out a shrill enough protest that Shepard worried about it collapsing, but it held. "Why am I here? You working with C-Sec to keep me from killing Fist?" His glare intensified. "You should know, I don't leave jobs unfinished." He lifted his chin, his unwavering stare feeling like a weigh-scale taking her measure. "I only agreed to your invitation because I don't need to end up on the wrong side of the Spectres. It's bad for business."

Shepard tossed her palms up, cutting him off. "We'll only be out a week this go, and hell, I'll help you kill the slimy little weasel if you can give me some decent intel." Her chair squeaked as she pushed back into it, leaning back without relaxing. "What's the deal with Fist?"

Wrex leaned back and folded his arms across his massive chest. "Fist betrayed the Shadow Broker to work for Saren. That's why he's a dead man." An almost sage nod answered her hum of disbelief and raised eyebrows. "I'm doing the human gene pool a favour ending him before he breeds."

Shepard nodded, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of her mouth, a thin, tenuous vein of understanding running between them. "The human gene pool thanks you." She shook her head. "Any idea what Saren wants from him? It's not like Fist is an agent on the order of Barla Von."

Wrex shook his head and dropped a fist onto the table, making everything shake. "The Broker doesn't give me those details, Shepard."

Challenging him a little with her stare, she let out a dry chuckle. "True, but you've got ears and people know you're after him. Heard anything?"

The behemoth grinned, a fierce grimace that bared his huge, square teeth. "You like to push your luck, don't you, Shepard?"

She laughed, bright and hearty, the first genuine laugh that had escaped from her in a week. "Yeah, I really do." Holding out her arms, she indicated the ship around them, laughter fading into something a little more daunted. "I'm out here with almost no leads to follow, trying to bring down the rogue Spectre who shot my husband in the head. Oh, and that rogue Spectre just told the council that whatever he's doing out here will bring about galactic extinction. So, yeah, I don't see that the powers that be are going to let me stop pushing my luck any time soon, so hit me." She rested her ankle on her knee and crossed her arms. "What have you heard?"

After a moment, Wrex nodded. "Fine. All I've heard is that he's got himself an asari matriarch, and he's searching for Prothean technology. He has teams all over the Traverse and the Terminus Systems searching." He leaned forward, hands braced against his knees, his face pressing intrusively into her space. "You looking for another gun? That why I'm here?"

Two lungfuls of silence breathed between them before Shepard sighed and shook her head. "No. Look, Wrex, C-Sec has already told me most of what you've said so far, and I've got a boatload of guns. I brought you aboard for what you didn't tell C-Sec, and I'm tired of the dance, so either spill it or go down to the cargo bay, and we'll drop you back on the Citadel in a week."

He grunted and stared at her for another couple of seconds before letting out a rough breath. "I took a job a good while back. It was for a small, private merc company that had brought me in a few times to help out when they got a job too big for them to handle alone." His massive head shook, making the chair under him groan. "Something stank about it right off: the entire crew was outside hires, none of the company's regulars came along, even to supervise."

Shepard didn't bother to hide her surprise. "That didn't tip you off?"

Shrugging, Wrex continued, "I explained it away as the company not wanting to turn down a second job. And the target was soft—a volus freighter—not the sort of job that needs a lot of supervision. It took us fifteen minutes to wipe out the few volus crew and security guards." He shoved himself up out of his chair and paced to the door and back. "The manifest didn't list anything valuable, and none of the crew were anyone of any importance. The whole situation made my plates itch, so I went through the ship trying to figure out the score."

Bracing his feet at shoulder width, he crossed his arms, his chin still raised and spine set in challenge. "I found a compartment hidden beneath the lowest deck. It was filled with crates." A heavy grunt accompanied an uneasy shift in his weight. "My plates itched before I opened that compartment, but when I pulled up the hatch, it felt as though an entire nest of sand ticks burrowed their way into my head. I couldn't make myself go into the space let alone look in the crates."

He cleaned his throat and rocked a little. "I've been involved in a lot of bad deals over the last three hundred cycles, Shepard. I've been good and damned scared a time or two, but whatever was in those crates scared me worse than facing down a thresher maw on foot. I closed up the hatch and bolted for the shuttle." He stepped around his chair and sat. "On my way out, I saw Saren. Didn't know who he was at the time, but someone called out his name, so I know it was him. He didn't talk to anyone, just walked through, watching everything."

"Did he take those crates?" Shepard asked, leaning forward, the story sinking hooks into her curiosity and drawing her in.

Wrex shook his head. "I don't know. I stole the volus shuttle and took off." He let out a deep, guttural cough. "Good thing I did too. Before I reached the relay, the ship blew."

"Damn." Shepard stood and walked around the table, sorting through what Wrex had told her. "He probably had the mercs load up the crates and then blew all evidence that he'd been there." She stared across the table at Wrex. A krogan with an intuitive gut was a rarity. Shepard frowned at him. And he was well-spoken, obviously intelligent. Maybe she should try to convince him to stay.

"And what about Fist?" she asked, leaning against the table to fix him with a stare she'd learned from her mother. Whether he stayed or not, she needed everything he knew. Desperate times called for desperate measures, so she pulled out the 'You lie to me, I'll disassemble your body parts in alphabetical order' stare.

Wrex wriggled a little. Not even krogan could withstand that particular stare. "Fist went aboard Saren's dreadnought to finalize his deal with Saren and overheard some things the Broker wanted me to squeeze out of him before I killed him." Before she could open her mouth to demand more details, he grunted. "Saren has spent the last three decades searching for information and technology belonging to an ancient race called the Reapers. Apparently, something happened with his brother back during the First Contact War that convinced him these Reapers were real and a threat."

Shepard sank into the chair next to her, her limbs numb, her mind racing with the flashing, unintelligible images from the beacon. Reapers? Was that what they were? "Did Fist hear what they were? Anything?"

"Just that Saren believes they killed off the Protheans." He grumbled, a deep, heavy landslide of sound in his throat. "The pyjak's screaming brought C-Sec running, and they dragged me out before I finished."

"Shepard?" the pilot, Joker's voice interrupted Shepard as she struggled to put all the connections together. "You have an incoming transmission from the University of Serrice on Thessia. It's waiting in the comm room."

"Thank you, Joker." She pushed up. "I'm on my way." Stepping around the table, she waved to Wrex. "Walk with me for a moment." She palmed the door control and led the way through, leaving it to him to follow. "We're on our way to find Matriarch Benezia's daughter," she told him when he caught up. "I'll make you a deal. You help me get this Liara T'Soni aboard the _Normandy_ alive, and I'll use my Spectre authority to get you all the time and space you need to squeeze that pimple, Fist, before you pop him."

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the CIC and held out her hand. "Deal?"

Wrex laughed, low and dangerous. "I'm starting to like you, Shepard." He clasped her wrist. "Deal."

"Excellent. Make yourself at home, Wrex. Welcome to the team."

 **Eden Prime +5**

Shepard stepped through the doors onto the CIC and scanned the deck. Nothing. Either her parents had perfected the art of being wherever she wasn't, or they'd vanished into thin air.

"Has anyone seen the captain or the major?" she called, wincing a little at the way her voice cut through the gentle murmur of the crew doing their jobs. During her inspection the day before, she'd been given a run down on all the systems, and what she understood from that briefing filled her with a deep awe and respect for the talent and skill of her crew. Not to mention that it also made her keenly aware of what a big, dumb trigger-puller she was. Her people all possessed brains, talent, and training to such an extent that they'd been handpicked to serve aboard the most advanced prototype frigate in the galaxy.

She shot things really well. Well done, her.

"They've been in the comm room for the past couple of hours, ma'am," one of the Marines at the door replied, cutting through her momentary insecurity.

"Thank you, Turner, I was beginning to think they'd disappeared." She answered his salute and headed toward the comm room.

"Let Specialist Lawson look, Garrus, but she doesn't take Nihlus anywhere, and Dr. Gedarin must sign off on any tests Lawson wants to run," her mother was saying when the door opened. "We'll be in touch."

"Understood, and tell Shepard to call me soon. I've already been yelled at by three nurses and a doctor for turning Ni's room into some sort of tactical command." A familiar chuckle carried through the comm. "I told them it was to make him feel at home, but I don't think they're buying it. Vakarian, out."

Shepard stopped just inside the door. "What's going on?" She glared at her parents for a moment, then marched down the ramp to their side. Suspicion prickled the back of her neck, an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation when it came to her parents. "You were talking to Garrus?" Fear replaced the prickle, ice-cold and piercing. "Is everything okay? Is Ni … ?"

Hannah spun and grasped both of Shepard's hands. "Nihlus is the same, love. We were just giving Garrus permission to let a specialist we found take a look at him. She's an expert in reconstructive technology, and believes that a combination of implants and nanotech might help rebuild the damaged portion of his brain."

A sigh of combined relief and annoyance deflating her, Shepard looked from one parent to the other. Suddenly she felt like the parent who'd caught them with their hands in the cookie jar and chocolate all over their faces. "And you didn't come to me because … ?"

Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We didn't want to get your hopes up, Kat-bird. The treatment is highly experimental and nothing may come of it. The specialist may decide Ni isn't even a candidate." He led her toward the door. "Are we coming up on the _Kilimanjaro_?" he asked, clearly changing the subject, albeit to a relevant one.

Shepard nodded, the prickle of suspicion returning. "Yes, it's waiting at the relay for us." She hesitated inside the door, taking a moment to phrase her words carefully. "Look, I love you guys so much for trying to help find treatments for Ni, but he's my husband … I need to know what's going on. I'd rather be disappointed than have things going on that I don't know about." Reaching out, she slipped her hands into theirs. "Okay?"

Hannah squeezed her hand. "We understand, poptart, but you've got a lot on your plate, so please, let us take as much of the load as we can." She stood on her toes and kissed Shepard's cheek. "Please. He's our son. We want to help."

Shepard smiled and kissed her mother in return. "I know, and I love you guys so much for that."

"By the way," Hannah said, "when we called, Garrus thought it was you. He said he received all the information you sent him, and he's ready when you are." She lifted an eyebrow, a clear question.

"I asked him to help me plan the mission on Therum, to make sure I'm not missing anything." She shrugged when her mother's curiosity morphed into disapproval. "I'm the gun, Mom, not the brain. Not yet, at least. If I'm taking these people down there, I'm going to make sure my plan isn't going to get them all killed. Garrus has a solid, tactical mind. He'll see anything I've missed."

"Shepard," Joker called through over the intercom, interrupting any rebuttal from Hannah, "we're coming up on the _Kilimanjaro_ now. Lt. Alenko has your parents' luggage at the air lock."

"Thank you, Joker. Go ahead and link us up. We'll be right there." Shepard hit the control then wrapped an arm around each parent. "I'll squawk when I'm aboard and available, but as soon as we've grabbed this Prothean researcher, I'm headed back to the Citadel. I thought about going out to find the quarians first, but that could add another week or ten days, and I'm losing my mind after just under forty-eight hours." She released them as they climbed to the narrow walkway that led to the bridge and decon.

"Shepard," Joker came back, "Captain Hirawa is asking permission to come aboard?"

Shepard grinned. "Permission granted." She sighed. "The downside to being the captain of the newest and shiniest: everyone is going to want to have a look at her."

* * *

1 Horatius, The Lays of Ancient Rome. Lord Thomas Babington Macaulay, 1842

* * *

(A-N: So much thanks and love for all the support I've received for this story. Thank you! It's always a little nerve-wracking starting a new adventure, and your support means so much.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Nais -** Asari equivalent of woman. (pronounced Nah-ees)

 _Nihlus and I never really managed to figure out how to have an actual date. Our first date may have been our most traditional, even though it turned into a weekend of making love, shouting at televised hideth turram matches, and lying in bed talking about everything. At the time, I believed that closing the door behind him on that second morning was the hardest thing I'd ever have to do. I'd never experienced needing to be with someone—a painful tie to another's presence—like that before. And of course, because I'd reached the ripe old age of twenty-four before experiencing it, I wasn't at all prepared._

 _After I shut the door, maybe a minute—ninety seconds at the outside—passed before he called and asked me to meet him on Palaven at the end of my next mission. Since my mission was a simple infiltration to take out a small group of gun runners stealing weapons from the Alliance and selling them to pirates, I didn't expect it to take more than a couple of hours above the travel time to Eden Prime. I agreed without the slightest hesitation, telling him I'd call when I'd wrapped it up so we could make arrangements._

 _As it turned out, the simple 'get in, find out where they're getting their guns' mission went tits up in a spectacular fashion. I arrived at Eden Prime, discovering that the small organization was infact a massive, multi-armed monstrosity spread out over six colonies with the ringleaders hiding on Arcturus, Trident, and Earth. After working my way through an underground warehouse complex for the better part of thirty hours, it became apparent that I was going to miss my date with Nihlus by about two or three weeks. I'm not sure anything had ever disappointed me more, or caused me to think up more imaginative ways to slide a side trip into my work._

 _Nihlus was wonderful. He just told me that there was no hurry, he wasn't going anywhere. The council had found some gun runners for him to put out of business as well, so he'd call every day, and we'd make arrangements once we were closer to tying up our missions. I held it together over the comm, but as soon as I hung up, I hid in my hotel room eating coffee ice cream until my ship for Watson left._

 _I was on Watson three days later, bulldozing my way through a warehouse near the spaceport when the tide of pirates running away from me suddenly turned and started running toward me. The reason why met me halfway through the warehouse complex, arriving in the form of a tall figure in black armour. When the mysterious soldier took off his helmet, my heart stopped for the space of a breath, then leaped into overdrive._

 _Nihlus just shrugged and grinned, saying that my gun runners must be the same organization as his gun runners. I found out nearly a year later that he'd petitioned the council to take them out. So, our second date lasted nearly two weeks and covered taking out six enclaves of bad guys and making arrests on three separate worlds. In other words, the perfect second date for a Spectre and an N7. He owned a small frigate with far more firepower than a ship that size should possess and a crew small enough that we could go nearly a day without seeing anyone if we didn't want to. Trust me, for those two weeks, when we weren't shooting our way through pirate and gangster bases, we didn't want to see anyone outside of one another._

 _If I thought saying goodbye to him after our first date was hard, I had no idea what hard meant. There's the funny thing. It gets more difficult every time. Every. Single. Time._

 **Eden Prime +6**

The quick thump of the squad's boots on the cavern floor echoed up through the chamber until it sounded like an army storming the ruins. Sucking in deep breaths that burned in her chest—damned sulfur—Shepard struggled to hear any indication of the enemy over the sounds of her team and the subtle background roar of magma flowing beneath them. Nothing. Damn, still too far ahead.

The geth and krogan remained elusive, having the capacity to move almost tirelessly, unlike her squad. The enemy signatures on her HUD registered so close that their gravity pulled at the incendiary rounds in her Mattock, but twenty minutes into the tunnel system she'd yet to fire a shot. That fact set her teeth grinding. Despite all the contingencies she and Garrus discussed, they'd missed planning for a marathon through an ancient ruin built on top of an active volcano. Silly them.

On the other hand, Bravo Team, closing on the ruins in the Mako, had been fighting steadily since they landed. Shepard swallowed a throatful of envy and raised her fist, bringing her squad to a halt, quickly dispersing them into guard positions with a couple of hand signals.

"Dammit, Joker, what's her position now?" Shepard asked between quick, deep breaths. While the pilot checked the scanners and muttered to himself about being overworked and underpaid, she watched Alenko, Wrex, and Pataki settle into their positions at her twelve and six. Not that they had to worry about being attacked, the enemy was running too quickly the other way, branching out into the massive web of tunnels and corridors. Somewhere, she imagined the krogan battlemaster leading the enemy force barking into his comm, demanding to know the asari's position.

"What was this place?" Alenko whispered as he took position, his back pressed to the curved tile walls, his eyes and weapon vigilant.

Shepard just shook her head by way of answering as the _Normandy's_ pilot responded.

"T'Soni's moving fast, taking the northernmost network of tunnels deeper into the site," the pilot said. "Can asari use their biotics to run faster, because she's booking?" He paused as if expecting an answer before he continued, "The krogan is getting smart and has broken up his squads to cover three of the main routes. He's headed the wrong way, but one of his geth teams is only a few tunnels away from the asari." Joker's colourful, barely coherent muttering pulled a wet-cardboard smile across Shepard's lips. "Not sure if this is good news or not, but she just slowed down."

Shepard's fingers dove into her belt pouch for a cloth as she answered, "If it means we catch her, it's a good thing." She mopped her face and neck then traded the cloth for a water bottle. "If she's hurt, the doc can patch her up." The cool water flowed over her tongue, as much a pleasure as it was satiating, washing away the thick layer of dust, sulfur, and smoke that coated her mouth and built up in a ridge along her front teeth. She held up the half-finished bottle to Kaidan, raising her eyebrows in a silent query as she capped it. When he nodded, she tossed it to him. Worrying about sharing spit didn't last long in the military.

"Didn't want to share with an alien, huh, Shepard?" Wrex said, his tone belying the challenge in his words. A sharp grin showed his massive, square teeth as he opened a bottle of his own.

"That's it exactly," she answered, snappish but without heat or sting. "It's how I show my xenophobia. Married a turian as a cover up." Giving her people another moment to breathe, she checked her HUD. The _Normandy's_ scans helped her map out the shortest way to intercept the fleeing asari scientist. Damn, T'Soni had a massive lead on them. "If you're going to drink, do it now. We've got a hell of a run ahead of us yet."

Five minutes and three quarters of a klick further underground over some truly horrible footing, Shepard paused to study the _Normandy's_ new scans. The asari seemed to be running toward something rather than just running to escape the enemy. Shepard mopped her face, turned up the cooling in her armour, then squinted at the map as she followed T'Soni's path. The scientist didn't appear to be heading for the surface where her yacht had been parked, but rather deeper underground.

"She's after something," Alenko said, looking at the map over Shepard's arm. He reached toward the display, but paused partway and raised his eyebrows, asking for permission. Shepard smiled, appreciating the respect, and nodded for him to go ahead. His finger traced the different tunnels. "They all seem to be heading toward some sort of nexus or central chamber."

Shepard nodded toward the path ahead. "Wrex, take point and keep your eyes open." When the krogan passed her to watch their front, she set out at a quick, long-strided walk. They couldn't afford to stop to rest. "So, there's something of value here, other than her, and she's trying to keep Saren from getting his hands on it."

Alenko shrugged, but then nodded. "It's a reasonable assumption. Otherwise, why isn't she running for the surface and that little yacht of hers?"

Shepard let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay, we're going to have to sprint, people. We need to catch Saren's people." She gave them a second to gather themselves, then ordered Wrex to run for it.

Little gave Shepard as heavy a shot of pure exhilaration as a good chase. Legs and heart pumping hard and quick; the steady flow of muscle; the sure-footed, well-oiled machine competence of a body designed and honed to perform. She took no pride in her body's appearance—she had no time for the preeners and the flexers—but she couldn't claim the same about it's performance. As a soldier, she relied on it as much as she relied on her weapons, and it had yet to let her down.

"You're catching her, Shepard," Joker reported, updating her scans. "You're coming up on the geth in the next hundr—"

Thunder roared. Before Shepard could even wonder about the source, the walkway heaved like a flicked rope. The concussive wave tossed her to the hot, metal grating and sent her rolling toward the sheer drop beyond the edge. Reaching out, she grasped at the air, searching for anything to stop her from tumbling over the edge. Her elbow hooked a railing upright as her right leg slid over the edge. Clinging to the rebar, she heaved herself back up in time for a blast of scorching air to blow her lower body back over the chasm. The searing wind blistered her cheeks and heated the metal until it burned through the polymer weave of her underarmour.

"Cover your heads!" she yelled over the roar as she looked up to see a massive, roiling cloud of flame and smoke racing down the tunnel toward them. She buried her face in her arms, letting her legs hang as the storm of flame and smoke blasted her, trying to tear her loose and fling her into the abyss.

A hand grasped her belt. "Shepard?" Alenko's voice called. "You okay?"

She lifted her head, giving him a quick nod before swinging her legs a couple of times, then up onto the twisted pretzel of a walkway. "Thanks." She ran a quick mental inventory, but other than the burns on her face and the stink of burned hair, she'd come through intact. "Is everyone okay?" she called. "Alenko?" He nodded. "Wrex? Pataki? You two breathing?"

When they answered to the affirmative, she heaved herself up off the floor, checked her weapons, and then gave herself a shot of medigel. She poked a little at the blisters on her cheeks. "How does it look, Alenko? Is it going to ruin my supermodel career?" She pressed a hand over her stomach. How long was she going to be able to take blows like that? Had that blow done any harm?

"Yeah, sorry." The LT chuckled, a warm, kind sound that dragged her out of her worry. "But, you're a shoe-in for Mrs. Bullet and Blast Damage."

She clapped his shoulder. Time to get the mission wrapped up. "Excellent." She waved to the others. "Come on. No doubt, that was the geth trying to cut us off." Setting into a long-strided jog, she opened a channel to the Normandy. "Joker, are we cut off? And if so, find us another route."

"It wasn't the geth. The blast dropped a section of tunnel on the ones you were tracking." He paused. "Looks like the asari blew one of the Prothean access ways." He paused for a moment. "Sending new route to you now. You okay down there?"

"Yeah, five by five, Joker." Shepard's omnitool beeped and the indicator on her HUD map changed direction. "Shit. Wrex, bear right." She followed the krogan. "How is Bravo Team doing, Joker?"

"They're mopping up a few stragglers on the surface, heading for the south entrance to the tunnels," the pilot replied. "Do you want me to bring them into the ruin from the other side, try to cut T'Soni off?"

The ground under Shepard's feet rumbled, shaking hard enough to send her stumbling into a wall. "No. This place is a bloody death trap. Just find us a way out of here along the shortest path to T'Soni." She sped up, moving to take point ahead of Wrex. "Thanks, Joker. Shepard, out."

They wound through a much more elaborate series of small tunnels, some so tight that they needed to duck down and go through in single file. Finally, Shepard heard a small sound echoing back toward them and lifted a hand, slowing the squad. Machine chatter.

She looked back over her shoulder at her squad and mouthed the word geth then signalled for Wrex to move up on her three. Together, they crept down the tunnel, footsteps as silent as possible. A squad of six geth swept a large chamber, their numbers spread out to cover the width as they jogged through.

The metal walkway emerged from the tunnel up high on the right side of the cavern, a series of ramps leading down the to the floor. Shepard sent Wrex and Alenko ahead one ramp, taking position alongside Pataki above them. Wrex and Alenko threw warps at the forward pair, bringing the entire squad to a halt, then all four of them opened fire. The forwardmost geth fell before they could get more than a couple of shots off, the last two managed to whittle Shepard's shields down to half before they let out their bad-extranet-connection death cries.

Finally, at the end of that chamber, T'Soni's marker showed up on Shepard's HUD, her proximity revitalizing the entire squad.

"You're not leaving here with the asari doc, Spectre," a deep voice said from above them. Shepard looked back and up. Two krogan and three geth made their way down another set of ramps. Luckily, not the way Shepard intended to go. She waved for the others to go ahead.

"Alenko, take point. Get to T'Soni. Pataki, watch his six. Wrex, you're here with me." She glanced at his utility belt. "Got grenades?"

"Four," he replied, then chuckled, his entire body radiating eagerness to blow people into little pieces. "Finally, a fight."

Shepard nodded and pulled an incendiary grenade. Glancing his way to make sure he was ready to go, she counted down on her fingers. Both tossed their grenades up onto the landing between the ramps just as the krogan stepped onto it.

"Run!" she called, bolting into the Prothean-built tunnel.

Wrex laughed as he raced along at her side. "Escaping big damn explosions is the only good reason to run, Shepard."

The explosion shook the tunnel, tiles dropping from the ceiling to smash at their feet. A cloud of smoke that reeked of burned meat and boiling antifreeze rolled through the narrow space. Shepard stopped at the end of the tunnel, stepping down onto the natural rock, pulled another grenade, and waited. While the two grenades had likely wiped out the geth, they'd probably just pissed the krogan off.

Sure enough, the two krogan appeared at the other end of the access.

"Just go for it, Wrex." Shepard tossed hers first, detonating it before it hit the floor on the other end. Flames and accelerants exploded in a plume. A second ignited a heartbeat later. The krogan battlemaster roared and charged, just to have two more explosions throw him back. He stumbled, going down on his knees, then toppled forward.

"Last one, Shepard." Wrex pulled it from his belt and lobbed it so that it landed between the two krogan. Both went down and didn't move. She caught the cocky grin Wrex shot her way, the battlemaster clearly taking credit for the kills.

Shepard let him preen as she waited, her next grenade ready to fly. Nothing in the pile of charred flesh moved, so she clipped it back on her belt. Hopefully she wouldn't need to use them again before they escaped that pressure cooker. If Joker's numbers held, only a dozen geth remained.

Alenko and Pataki awaited them, both men pressed into cover. "T'Soni opened fire on us," Alenko explained. "Maybe you'll have better luck with her?"

"Okay." Shepard waved them back and pressed close to the cavern wall as she made her way to the end of the tunnel. Tired, uncomfortable, and increasingly grouchy as the heat rose, she couldn't be responsible for what happened if she took friendly fire.

"Dr. Liara T'Soni?" she called, pausing to peer over the railing, searching for the asari scientist. "Damn it!" She dodged back as a round pinged off the wall next to her head, the gun's report allowing her to find her quarry. "Friendly incoming, for God's sake!" she hollered, and peered down.

The asari dodged from cover to cover, making her way down a long cavern, giving Shepard a chance to scope out the environment. Impressive, to say the least. Shepard hadn't seen a cave structure to rival its cathedral-like beauty. The walls rose in long, sweeping arcs, culminating in a vaulted pinnacle at least ten storeys above her head. It had to be man-made, just very, very old.

"Dr. T'Soni," she called, tearing herself away from the beauty of the place. "My name is Spectre Katlynn Shepard-Kryik. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."

"That's what the krogan said four days ago when they started hunting me," the fleeing scientist replied, shouting over her shoulder. "You'll forgive me if I don't just take you at your word."

Shepard grumbled low in her throat despite understanding the _nais's_ hesitance. "I'm coming out where you can see me. I'll have my hands up. We need to get you out of here before Saren realizes that his team failed, and he sends another." Leaning out a little further, Shepard held up her hands, letting the asari get a look at her before she stepped out of the tunnel. "I came to find you because your mother went missing along with about half of her acolytes. My intel says that she's joined forces with Saren Arterius, another Spectre." When T'Soni kept her trigger finger to herself, Shepard stepped down the metre deep slope to the cavern floor.

The asari peeked out from behind a long stone prominence that almost looked like a pew in a church. "I know Saren." Her tone didn't leave Shepard guessing as to what she thought of the turian Spectre. "He's a bastard. There's no way Benezia would get involved with him." The disgust in her voice lifted and tightened, growing almost shrill in her denial.

Shepard kept moving forward, hands held up and away from her body. "Saren attacked Eden Prime to get control of a Prothean beacon. He shot my bond-mate. In the course of hunting him, I discovered that you could be in danger." She added a shrug to her gesture of surrender. "And here we are."

"You're a Spectre?" Realization registered on her pretty, blue features. "You said Shepard-Kryik? Your bond-mate is Nihlus Kryik?" She lowered her gun. "I saw a news article on the extranet about his shooting. I'm sorry."

Shepard lowered her hands and strode forward. "Thank you, but right now, you're my priority." She looked around. "Why didn't you run for the surface when Saren's people came after you?" Before the scientist could answer, Shepard stopped her with a pointed forefinger. "Sorry, but my squad is still back in the tunnel." Glancing back, she called, "We're clear, gentlemen."

When Shepard turned back to meet the asari's blue-eyed gaze, T'Soni gestured for Shepard to follow. Despite following without argument, Shepard couldn't help but feel the inevitable weight of time settling in the pit of her gut. Not to mention the threat of the remaining geth. They needed to get off Therum and soon.

"The Protheans built mining outposts like this one all over this planet wherever they could find stable enough ground." T'Soni gestured toward the floor and the liquid rock and metal they could hear moving beneath them. "It was no small feat, but the planet's wealth made the risk worth it—it still does. That's how these ruins were found.." She stopped in front of a wall and held up her hand. "I ran from Saren's krogan—once I escaped the stasis bubble …" She shrugged, blushing cobalt across her cheeks. "... long story—because of this."

Shepard looked up, not seeing anything at first, but then she began to pick out tiny bits of colour and pattern on the rock.

"Holy crap," Kaidan whispered, his voice a scant hiss between clenched teeth. "It looks just like the ship we saw on Eden Prime."

Shepard scowled, unable to see it. She backed up until she stood at Kaidan's side, stumbling to a halt as the larger picture appeared, freezing her blood solid in her veins. "What the hell is a painting of Saren's flagship doing on this wall?" she wondered aloud.

"You've seen this before?" the asari asked. Her voice raised in pitch again, but that time—if the fact she looked fit to leap out of her skin was any indicator—it stemmed from excitement. A sweep of her hand drew their attention to the lower third of the wall and what looked like battle or some sort of exodus.

"Yes," Alenko said, answering the scientist's question. "A ship just like that one was at Eden Prime." He turned to face Shepard, but she held up a hand to forestall his questions.

"What is that below the ship? A battle?" Shepard asked, her gut twisting into an excruciating knot of dread. "Are those Protheans?"

T'Soni nodded. "I think so. Or some contemporary race." She leaned in closer. "It's a battle scene, and from the looks of it, the Protheans or whoever they are lost, badly." Reverent fingers reached out, but didn't touch the wall. "I've seen figures similar to this before, in my childhood."

Shepard shook off both the unease and the fascination. Interesting history lessons meant nothing if they died down there. "Do you have documentation of all this? Why did you come back?"

"I came back to destroy it." The asari shook her head and stepped back, staring up at the badly damaged mural. "I'm not sure why, something just told me that I shouldn't leave it for the krogan and geth to find."

Electronic chattering snapped Shepard's gaze to her HUD. "Damn, here come the rest of the geth, gentlemen." She glanced at T'Soni. "Whatever you need to do, Doc, do it quickly." Pivoting on her heel, Shepard shrugged her Mattock into her hand, all one smooth, practiced motion. "Eyes on the entrances," she said, knowing she didn't need to.

It took the geth so long to appear that worry began scratching sharp claws down her spine. "Pull back from that tunnel, Alenko. Let's spread ourselves up nearer the mural, get out of a reasonable blast range." They took up positions two thirds of the way up the room, but still nothing.

Shepard held her breath, waiting for something … anything to happen. The ground shook hard once, then twice, and then a third time. "What the hell?" she muttered under her breath.

"Shepard!" Joker's voice told her almost everything she needed to know the second she heard it: Basically, run like hell. "You've got to get out of there! Head back through the same tunnels. I'll find you a way to the back side of the mines, but the geth detonated three demolition charges, the tunnels along the other routes are flooding with magma … lava, whatever! Point is, it's all heading your way at about sixty klicks an hour."

"Shit." She turned to Wrex and Alenko. "Get started up those tunnels, make sure they're clear. Wait for us at the first junction." A quick spin and a leap launched her toward the asari researcher. "Come on, Doc. Let's move!"

"Charges are set," T'Soni said, sounding none too pleased to be blowing up a chunk of fifty-thousand-year-old history. "I'm ready."

Putting an arm around T'Soni's shoulders without touching her, Shepard herded the scientist toward the tunnel. "Pataki, you've got drag. Keep close and keep an eye on that lava." Still ten metres from the tunnel, the leading wave of air-pressure-propelled heat blasted across the cavern. "Shit!" Shepard pushed T'Soni faster, scarcely letting her pause to trigger the detonation before giving her a hearty shove. It wouldn't take the cavern long to fill to the level of their tunnel entrance.

T'Soni and Pataki broke first, wheezing, their legs wobbling from the heat. Shepard cranked her armour's cooling system then did the same for Pataki before shoving water bottles in their hands. "Wrex, you might have to give Pataki a lift." She waved off the Marine's protests. He could either die proud or get out alive. Damn, the tunnel was hot. Had to be more than forty-five degrees, which made breathing harder.

"Helmet up people," she ordered. "Air's getting too toxic." She put hers on and ticked up the oxygen a touch to compensate for the burning that told her she'd taken damage.

"Shepard," Joker called, "there's a side tunnel on your left coming up. Take it then the next left. There should be a couple of long ramps at the end of that chamber. Watch your asses, they're marked as unstable."

"Of course they are. Thanks, Joker." Shepard gave T'Soni a gentle push. "Keep moving, Doc. We've got a bit of a run yet." To her credit, the asari finished the last swig of her water and bolted, keeping up right behind Alenko. Truly, being roasted into human or asari BBQ could inspire tremendous speed and endurance.

Before they reached the left hand tunnel, the heat cranked up to blast furnace levels, telling Shepard that they didn't have enough time to sneeze before the lava hit them.

She glanced back, regretting it immediately as the walls shone with an increasingly bright glow. They were moving too slow. Stopping, she waved Pataki ahead of her. "Wrex! Grab Pataki." The behemoth slowed just enough for the Marine to catch up with him, then scooped him up and leaped right back into a charge. Shepard spared a backward glance, but the tunnel curved too much to see how much distance they had.

"On my back, Doc," she ordered as T'Soni stumbled. Hooking the woman's arm, Shepard helped her swing up, then gripped both her legs, bouncing her once hard to get her set into a balanced position.

"Not the most dignified rescue," T'soni muttered, her tone ungrateful enough that Shepard's lack of humour or patience whispered that it wouldn't be a great tragedy to just let T'Soni leg it.

Despite her annoyance, Shepard didn't bother answering. She needed all her air for the run.

"Ramps!" Alenko called back, his tone adding a 'hallelujah' that Kat's legs wholeheartedly agreed with.

At the base of the ramps, she lowered the asari to stand on her own, then chased her up. The air became so hot that even with her armour's cooling elements, the exterior temperature began to worm its way inside, leaving her dizzy and sick. She needed armour with a better heat rating.

The reason for her growing discomfort appeared as they reached the top of the first ramp and the already blast furnace air jumped. Damn, T'Soni must be miserable in her civilian clothing.

"Move, or we're going to end up baked," she called, pushing T'Soni harder. "Come on, Doc." Shove. "Faster." Shove. "You've got this." Shove.

Halfway up the last ramp, T'Soni's legs crumpled. Despite her own feeling as though they intended to do the same, Shepard scooped the limp body up under one arm. Gripping the railing with her free hand, she hauled herself up, unable to run with the extra burden.

"Joker," she called into her comms, "you up there waiting?" Even inside her helmet, every breath felt like a brand inside her throat and down into her lungs. Definitely not the work for a pregnant woman.

"Roger that, Shepard. Ready and waiting." The pilot paused. "Dr. Chakwas and some extra hands are on their way."

Shepard's toe caught on the grating, and she stumbled. She gripped the superheated railing, trying to keep herself from crashing to one knee, but the unrelenting grip of gravity pulled her down. All she managed was to halt her descent before she landed face-first over top of the asari. T'Soni let out a soft mutter of protest as she hit the floor, but didn't move.

Deep ringing footsteps and the shaking of the ramp pulled Shepard's gaze up to Wrex's looming bulk. Her head felt as though it weighed fifty kilos, dragging at the trembling muscles in her neck.

"Let me take her." Wrex plucked the asari out from under Shepard's arm and ran ahead, following Pataki into the large pipe that led to the surface.

"Come on, Spectre." A strong arm slipped beneath Shepard's. "Let's get out of here."

She looked up, giving Alenko a grim smile. "Yeah, that lava isn't going to wait forever." Hauling on the railing, and letting him pull on her hand, Shepard made it to her feet. Once up, she pulled away, forcing her body into a limping sort of lope. At the end of the large culvert, she palmed the door control, and let out a long, noisy sigh as relatively fresh, cool air washed over her.

"Come on, Spectre," Dr. Chakwas called from the lip of the _Normandy's_ ramp a few metres away. "It's to medbay with the lot of you."

Wrex's incoherent protests echoed out of the cargo bay, but by the time Shepard limped up to the top of the ramp, the krogan had been wrestled into the elevator. For her part, Shepard greeted the antigrav stretcher with a sigh of relief, not even bothering to remove her helmet as she collapsed onto the padded surface.

"Take me away, Doc. I surrender." She closed her eyes for a second, but then looked up, snagging the doctor's hand as she passed by. "Run scans on the baby first?"

Chakwas replied with a thin, pressed smile and a firm nod.

"Thank you." Relaxing down into the mattress, Shepard let out a long, thin sigh. Mission accomplished. She slid one hand up to open a channel. "We on our way to the relay, Joker?"

"Yes, ma'am, like a bat out of hell." He cleared his throat. "You've got a call waiting from the quarian flotilla. Do you want me to tell them you'll get back to them?"

"No, I'll take it, Joker. Route it through to my omnitool." She looked up at Chakwas and shrugged. "It's important?" she offered.

The doctor nodded and hit the elevator control, getting them started toward the crew deck. "They all are."

 **Eden Prime +7**

Shepard grinned at the face that appeared on the vid screen before her. "Hey there, C-Sec Investigator Vakarian." Damn, he looked good. So cool, and normal, and not flambeed. Even Wrex's face had been scorched to where it matched his crest.

"Hey there, yourself," Garrus said, studying her through narrowed eyes. "What have you been doing?"

Shepard brushed off his question. "How's Ni doing? Any improvement?"

"Ni's holding his own, but nothing's changed, Kat. They've unwrapped most of his bandages since the swelling came down. They say the surgical site is healing well. For the most part, he just looks like he's taking a nap." Garrus's mandibles fluttered in a smile. "I've been watching all the turram matches with him, but the Ungentiras should be embarrassed by the season they're having. I think he's staying asleep to avoid the shame."

"And the Praellors are kicking ass, a fact I'm sure you're rubbing in his face." She crossed her arms and leaned on one hip, exhaustion begging her to just lie down right there and sleep. In the five hours since leaving Therum, she'd suffered through a complete checkup and treatment for both burns and heat stroke. Still, the doc had given her nothing but good news about the health of her passenger, so all was well.

"So, that Lawson woman your parents called," Garrus said, pulling her back out of her half-asleep stupor, "seems to know what she's doing. It all came out in ancient batarian to me, so I don't have a clue." He shrugged. "But the head of Ni's team was really impressed by Lawson's plan." He nodded. "She sent all the test results and her treatment plan to your personal account: the encrypted one."

She activated her omnitool and navigated to her messages, bringing up the massive file. "Wow, she's thorough, that's for sure." She flipped through the scans, nothing new there other than the fact that the swelling in Ni's brain had come down. Moving onto the treatment plan, she read with a growing sense of trepidation that nonetheless boasted a thin vein of excitement woven through it.

"She wants to implant neural relays to make up for the damage?" Shepard asked, reading the specialist's report. "And what's this? AI driven nanites to rebuild natural brain tissue." She looked up. "And his surgeon thinks this could work?"

Garrus nodded and shifted his weight to one hip, his arms crossing. "Lawson demonstrated the nanites on a rat with an amputated leg." He shuddered, mandible flailing a little. "Brutal, but sure enough, timelapse vid showed the rat's leg being rebuilt."

"Jesus. An AI? Better be a legal application." Shepard played the vid, shuddering just as hard as her friend had. "I can't say I'm impressed with Lawson's ethics." When the vid ended, her stare returned to the image of the C-Sec officer. Despite how uncomfortable the vid made her feel, the tech worked, and Dr. Gedarin wouldn't let Lawson hurt Ni. A tiny flare of real hope sparked, burning steady and warm in her chest. "Okay, I want to talk to Dr. Gedarin about it first, but if she says she's okay with it and will be right there, hanging over Lawson's shoulder the whole time, might as well try." She winced at the frozen last image of the partially rebuilt rat leg, then closed the message. "I'll contact her and let her know."

Garrus let out a long sigh. "So, how are you doing? You look like hell." He leaned in and squinted. "Are those burns?"

"Yep." Shepard's turn to shrug, her injury a small thing with so much else to worry about. It didn't even hurt anymore … mostly. "The mission to capture T'Soni ended up being a little more lively than we anticipated. She blew an access way to crush a bunch of geth. We were just collateral damage." She stretched, pressing her shoulder blades together. A soft grunt escaped as the muscles all tied themselves into knots, unleashing a deep, burning pain. "And yeah, I feel like crap. Need a shower and some sleep, but I wanted to check in first." Reaching up, she scratched the base of her skull.

Now for the bad news. She sighed. "So, I heard from the quarians, and we're heading straight out to the Armstrong Nebula." Stifling a yawn with one hand, she shook her head. "Sorry, I really am beat. Anyway, the quarians lost a couple of pilgrims to the geth a few weeks back, so they're eager to help and want us to come right away." The ache that had settled in her gut while talking to the quarian admiral twisted, reminding her that the side trip meant another week or more before she saw Ni again.

"It's all right, Kat. He's in good hands, and it'll give him a chance to have something amazing to show you when you get back here." Garrus chuckled. "Seriously, though, get the work done. Ni's being looked after, and you can still talk to him mostly whenever you like." His cocky grin pulled one onto her face as well. "I still need to work. If I get fired, I'll have to join you on the _Normandy_."

"Trust me, I wished you were here a couple of times today." Shepard leaned against the console. "Let me see him?" She smiled as Nihlus appeared on the vid screen. Just as Garrus had said, they'd removed most of the bandages and his eyes had returned to their proper place. "Hey there, verro," she said, a relieved smile greeting his image. "Wow, look at you, almost all the bandages gone."

Swallowing the brick that lodged in her throat, Shepard sucked in a shaky breath. "We had an exciting day playing chase the asari inside an active volcano. You're going to be sorry you missed it. We all came through five by five and are now one asari archaeologist heavier. Liara T'Soni is her name, and man, she really doesn't like Saren." She swallowed again, the bricks starting to build up, a sharp ache spreading through the center of her chest.

"Anyway, I'm not coming back to the Citadel right away, verro." She bit down on the soft break in her voice. After a couple of breaths, she wrestled down the tears that tried to force their way through her exhaustion. "The quarians lost some kids to the geth during some experiment for their pilgrimage. They want to see me right away, so we're going to head straight there."

Despite knowing her husband was a half-galaxy away, her fingers kept lifting, as if she could reach out and touch him. "I'll be back as soon as we're done there, I promise." A yawn broke through the loneliness.

"I need to get some sleep, but I wanted to see you first." She redirected her errant fingers to press against her uniform. "The baby is fine. Dr. Chakwas ran more scans than I knew even existed when we got back, and everything is perfect, so don't worry about that. She did tell me that at three to four months I'm going to be restricted to the ship, so we'd better have caught Saren by then. You know me, I'll lose my mind having to sit out of ground missions." Did she dare stay in the field even that long? She shoved that concern aside for the other side of six hours sleep and smiled.

"Okay, verro. I love you, and with Specialist Lawson doing all this fancy work, I expect to see those beautiful, green eyes when I get back there." She swallowed another brick, pretty sure she heard the ceramic clatter as it landed on the pile. "I love you, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Garrus's face appeared back on the screen. "He's fine, Kat. Go get some sleep!" His mandibles spread and a hand lifted to stab a talon at the camera. "Sleep! And put your face out while you're at it. It's not supposed to be on fire!"

Shepard laughed, her friend's humour easing the pain back to where she could take a deep breath. "Thanks, now I'm afraid to look in the mirror."

Garrus chuckled, but then sucked in a quick breath. "Oh, and when Hannah called earlier, she asked me to tell you to look in the Normandy's freezer. She said she packed something you'd need." He laughed, bright and cocky. "If it's an ice pack for your face, let me know. My stocks are all coming due for reinvestment. I could use a psychic."

Shepard shook her head and lifted her hand to touch the backs of her fingers to her brow—the turian version of blowing a kiss. "I'm going now, you smartass." A warm smile drifted across her face. "I'll talk to you later."

"Later." He returned the gesture, then closed the message.

Shepard closed her omnitool, then locked down the comms and headed for her bed. Even the horrible, cement Alliance mattress would feel like a blessing … well, for a couple of hours anyway. She stopped in the galley to check the freezer, intrigued by her mother's message. A box covered in warnings of death and dismemberment sat on the bottom shelf. She opened the lid, a combined laugh and sob greeting the contents. Her mother knew her far too well. Far, far too well.

Taking out one of the small containers of coffee ice cream, she sealed up the box so the dire warnings remained visible, then grabbed a spoon and headed for her bed.


End file.
